The Pediatrician's Closet
by LoweFantasy
Summary: Mild, harmless Masaomi has stayed out of Ema's life because he is far too aware of the years between them. That is, until he catches Fuuto leaving Ema's room after forcing himself on her. Only the older brothers know about the protective, vengeful monster Masaomi has kept back for so many years, and the younger brothers are about to see why.
1. Pedophile

The Pediatrician's Closet

By LoweFantasy

1

Every time Masaomi saw his stepsister, he wondered if he should have himself admitted.

It didn't matter that he couldn't help but see a woman. She was half his age. Stretch propriety and he could be her father. He was already fulfilling that role for the half-dozen so brothers who still needed one.

As a pediatrician, he had patients the same age. He wondered why they still felt and look like children to him, while Ema didn't. If he hadn't known himself better, he would have feared himself a pedophile.

Which was why when he looked at her and felt the stirring of warmth in his chest, he thought about turning himself in. Forget the fact she was his stepsister, she was a _kid._ He was in his early thirties.

 _I am so wrong._

So, purposely kept his attention out of his brother's matters as they collectively swooned and scrabbled over each other for her affections. He trusted his elder younger brothers to apply the force if necessary to protect her, as well as in the honor of the younger siblings he had helped raise. In a way, it was a good thing there were so many of them. If Ema had only one or two, maybe even three, at least one would have been able to get in something offensive behind the other's backs. But thirteen? Not even Wataru went unwatched. Hikaru alone made up for a whole team of private investigators and shameless paparazzi.

Masaomi didn't examine his feelings more than was necessary to keep them in check. He welcomed overtime. He kept living. He blurred her out in his mind, demoting her to the squabble of siblings, and ignored anything else that said otherwise.

And then, soon after she had entered college, he saw Fuuto, half-naked, leaving her room with a noticeable bulge in his pants.

For how close Masaomi was, Fuuto didn't notice him. Probably because he was busy avoiding the gaze of another brother that had appeared at the other end of the hall, dressed in drag and far too sharp for his own good. Hikaru didn't miss Masaomi, though, and sauntered his way over to the elder brother the moment Fuuto had vanished behind the elevator doors.

"These walls are wonderfully thin," simpered the fourth son. "If she hadn't told him 'no,' I was going to send in the cavalry."

Any doubt as to what his second youngest brother had been up to fled, and a broiling, flesh-searing heat burned up from the pit of his gut.

Hikaru's smile faltered. "I—I haven't seen that look in a while."

The long-haired man actually flinched as Masaomi moved his hot gaze to him.

"You let it get that far?"

Hikaru threw his hands up, a rare flicker of fear crossing his face.

"I don't stalk the poor girl. I just got here."

Masaomi clenched his fists, suddenly remembering all the times Hikari had stood to the side after instigating conflicts between their brothers, watching and smiling.

The younger man seemed to sense the danger and he stepped back, careful not to smile. "I'll go after him."

Hikaru spun on his heel and fled.

Masaomi looked to her door, taking a step towards it to check, to make sure…

Then he came to his senses and remembered who he was: a man, twice her age, and coming in after she had more or less been taken advantage of by Fuuto. For not the first time, Masaomi cursed that gentleness of hers that made her both defenseless and appealing.

He needed a talk with his second in command.


	2. Protection

2

Ukyo's expression turned to stone the moment he saw Masaomi in his doorway. He pressed his mouth closed against the question his eyes asked.

"We've got to do something about Ema's passiveness," Masaomi said.

Ukyo took off his glasses and ran his thumb and forefinger along the corners of his eyes. Besides him, several windows of text were open on his laptop, along with a numbered list of what could have been sub-laws.

"Who was it?" he asked warily, though Masaomi didn't miss the tension in his voice. Unlike Masaomi, Ukyo had never attempted to hide his more temperamental side.

"I'm taking care of him. But I can't talk to her. We need someone who is better at explaining these things and won't make her feel intimidated or forced."

"I can think of several of our brothers who are painfully good with words, myself included."

"No. You're too severe."

Ukyo gave Masaomi a wry, dry smile. "Eek. You are mad. I haven't heard you this blunt since you told Hikaru his recorder skills were what killed his pet chicken. What was he, seven?"

Masaomi wasn't in the mood for Ukyo's dry humor.

"Well? Can I trust you to find someone?"

Ukyo raised his eyebrows. "Why me?"

"Because you've been paying more attention. You would know who she is most comfortable with. I've been…busy."

An unreadable look crossed Ukyo's eyes, but it was gone before Masaomi could name it.

"Fine." He slipped his glasses back on. "Just don't do anything you'll regret, please."

Hearing that gave him pause. Up until this point, a part of him thought his brothers were just over exaggerating. They tended to do that. But then he remembered how Hikari had taken a step back and hidden his trademark smirk. He hadn't been paying much attention at the time. Everything had been bleeding out red.

With that came an old memory.

He couldn't afford to hurt someone like _that_ again.

"Perhaps I should stay out of this…" he said, more to himself than to his brother.

"I'd say you've stayed out of it long enough." Ukyo gave him a cryptic glance.

Masaomi didn't like what that look implied. "I'm not like the rest of you."

"So you say."

Masaomi took another cleansing breath. He was most likely blowing this out of proportion.

"I guess…" Masaomi ran his hand through his hair, wiping off the sweat that had gathered in his clenched palm. "I just expected too much of them. It's about time one of them made a more direct move."

Ukyo had glanced back to his computer screen, but on hearing that turned back to Masaomi with an incredulous look.

"What rock have you been hiding under?"

Masaomi stiffened. Hot, needle-like chills prickled his neck, and instantly his mind went to the worst scenario—his brothers taking turns pushing themselves onto her, crawling into her room, making her the family's personal whore—

He squashed that down with the hefty volume of ' _they are your brothers.'_ They would never get THAT bad. Honestly, he should know.

Either way, for the first time, Masaomi started to doubt his self-inflicted isolation. Yes, he had tended to her when she got hurt or sick, just like he did any of the others, or stopped Wataru from taking advantage of her kind nature, but he hadn't…it wasn't like any of them talked to him about these things. He hadn't asked.

When he came out of his momentary lapse into calming his paranoia, Ukyo had that smile he hated. It was the one that reminded everyone he was related to the scheming Hikaru.

And in that moment, Masaomi felt like the worst brother ever.

 _Ema…I was just trying to protect you from me._

No. He had been trying to protect himself.


	3. Plans

3

Back when she had been in High School, he had found himself in the courtyard with her, looking at the tulips Iori had planted and listening as she whispered his own thoughts back at him: how lonely the house was becoming. How having so many brothers leaving made her feel anxious. In that moment, like so many others, he found himself struck with how much she emitted woman to him, not child. He didn't think he'd been around another female in his life that was more woman than her. Even so, the vulnerability she showed to him in that soft, shy voice made him wonder at how delicate she could still be, while every movement seemed to display matronly strength; the kind that reminded him of his mother before his father had died.

Desperate to remind himself once more that she was still a child, he unwrapped a sucker from his pocket (a pediatrician always kept treats on hand) and plopped it into her mouth like he would with a five-year-old. The confused look in her large, dark eyes made him want to jump into a hole and die.

"It's a reward for being such a good girl," he said. He gave his best 'I'm not a creep, you can trust me' smile he could make before patting her head—trying to somehow make his failure of a plan float—and went back inside.

It didn't help that a small part of him had been happy so many of his brothers were leaving. He decided it was the same part that wanted to make a pedophile out of him.

That same part of him gladly helped him forget that Fuuto was a child too as he read off the results of the tests.

Masaomi had assumed, based on the symptoms, that Fuuto was suffering a simple urinary infection. When those test results had come back negative, he had gone to other possibilities, ones he did not like thinking about.

The Gonorrhea test had come back positive.

While easily treated with antibiotics, it was still a sexually transmitted disease.

He stared at it for a long moment, fighting to not be overwhelmed by searing rage, before picking up the phone and dialing Fuuto's number.

" _Yeah?_ " came his brother's voice.

He opened his mouth, ready to tell the boy the truth and to come in for antibiotics. But then fire flared up and jumped into the mouthpiece.

"I'm going to need you to come in for treatment. Just a basic flush."

Like sticking a hose up someone's urethra was a good treatment for any kind of urinary infection or STD. Usually, it would just aggravate it. Sometimes catheters even gave the infections. The balance of good and bad bacteria in the body was delicate, and infections only happened when the balance was upset.

Fuuto groaned. " _Come on, bro, isn't there just some pill I can take? Or can you at least knock me out for what's going to be the most humiliating moment of my life?_ "

All the things Masaomi could say to that rose to his throat, so thick it could have choked him. But the fire whispered out instead, turning his lips into a cold, calculating smile.

"I'll put some general anesthesia on the bill. Don't worry, it's a simple fix. Just a small, but rare kind of infection."

" _Good_."

"I'll see you tomorrow then?"

" _God, I hope so. It might have to be late, though. How late can you go?"_

They made arrangements, then Masaomi hung up. Without pause, he dialed up his mother.

"Hey, mom. Yeah, they're good. Oh yeah, definitely. Hey, um, something has come up with Fuuto…"


	4. Prey

4

As a general rule, Masaomi didn't have great luck with women. Oh, he drew them in fine enough, but once they were in and getting deep, problems started. All completely his fault. He'd own up to that.

First, he was busy. Being a medical student with a full-time job had barely given him time to breathe let alone have a girlfriend. Throw in several younger brothers and an overwhelmed mother and no girl could get in edgewise.

Second, he had quite the conservative criteria for the kind of women he liked to get serious with. Having to essentially raise his brothers on his own when his mother ran off to become a career woman, Masaomi didn't really want to marry a girl who was set on working outside of the home. Unfortunately, that made him come across as chauvinistic and old-fashioned, which most women in the modern day did not appreciate. Of course, he was fine if she went off to have a job once the kids were grown, but kids, well…they needed their mom. He'd seen that first hand. And he still saw it every day when kids came into his office with a background of living at home alone because mom and dad were too busy. He did not want that for his own children, and he would not budge. At the same time, he liked a woman with strength and brains and a degree. He wanted an equal, after all, and finding that odd mixture of educated without needing a career was…nigh impossible.

And third, he wouldn't have sex. Had to do with his sensitivity to the needs of children again. As a doctor, even as a pediatrician, he knew how often babies came into the world beating the odds of birth control. Heck, he knew second hand how creation often gave birth control the finger, as no couple he knew of sanely planned on having thirteen children. With his luck, he knew he would inherit his parents' immunity to birth control and impregnate a woman without trying. And also, having dealt with many 'whoopsie' babies to single mothers and fathers, the idea of creating a child with a woman he didn't plan on staying with forever, or her staying with him, horrified him. To think of not being able to be a part of that child's life for any reason—or ensuring that child had a mother on hand _whenever_ they needed her…

And then there were the unhappy children of unions where neither parent wanted them, or both were still children themselves.

While sweet in theory, his abstinence did nothing for girlfriends who wanted to take it a step farther. And since he had yet to come to the point where he felt right proposing, they all grew impatient and left for brighter opportunities. At the rate he was going, Masaomi would die a virgin, as some of his brothers happily pointed out for him.

There was a fourth reason. But it was the third he thought of when Fuuto stepped in and sat on the exam bench with a crinkle of paper.

"Lay on me what's happening, doctor," he said, leaning back onto his hands. Even after a day of supposed work, the seventeen-year-old idol had perfect hair and unmussed designer clothes.

"First I'll need you to dress down," he gestured to the folded, flowery blue hospital gown on the counter. "Then I'll hook you up to an IV to prep you for the procedure. While I do that, I'll talk you through what's going to happen."

Masaomi couldn't help but feel a sense of wryness as his brother got up and went to the attached bathroom. None of the elder brothers would have been so trusting.

That brought to his mind the fourth reason why he hadn't been able to hold on to a girlfriend.

He had been mild-mannered as a child. Though there had been occasions when, given certain circumstances and the right buttons pushed, a dark, powerful fury would be unleashed. In that way, he hadn't been unlike Yusuke. While at home with his baby brothers, Masaomi was the picture of gentility and caring. But once his brothers got old enough to go to school and encounter bullies, a monster was unleashed. An unorthodox one, for Masaomi had never taken vengeance or made threats with his fists.

It wasn't until a poor boy had ended up blind that Masaomi's parents and Masaomi himself realized the kind of horror he had become.

He tried to think of this as Fuuto walked back, looking far less glamorous in the bleaching, open-backed hospital gown. But as it had in those days of old, the red fury only countered with other images, such as Fuuto walking out of Ema's room with a bulge sticking out from the crotch of his pants, and the whispered reports of how skittish and wary Ema had become afterward. Then of Fuuto's test results.

At least he still had the decency to appreciate how calm his hands worked as they tied Fuuto's upper arm and found the needle into the vein.

"So, what's going to happen," he said casually. "Is that you are going to stay away from Ema. That includes her room."

He taped off the needle and caught Fuuto paling, but little else. Always so cocky.

"Pardon? Since when did she have anything to do with this?" he didn't sound impressed, but Masaomi knew the ring of guilt when he heard it.

"Your test results showed you have an STD. I'm sure I don't have to explain what that is."

The boy's eyes shot wide and he paled further, almost to a gray.

"I've got AIDs?"

"No. But you nearly inflicted Gonorrhea upon Ema through your complete lack of control and selfishness. If you must become a womanizer, fine. But don't you dare ever let me hear even a whisper of you going near our sister or I will see to it you'll never be able to enjoy a woman again."

The mixture of shock and disbelief twisting about his younger brother's face made the reawakened monster in him purr, while another part of him told him to stop while he was ahead. But he had their mother's permission. And it wasn't like he was going to hurt him. Just scare him a little. Or maybe a lot.

"You…you're insane? Why didn't anyone ever tell me you were insane?" Fuuto's hands clenched the edge of the table. "Okay, fine. Whatever, can we just get this over with?"

"Don't think I'm serious?" Masaomi let himself smile, the same smile he gave to everyone. "Didn't you know STDs can't be gotten rid of with just a simple 'flush out'? Otherwise, no one would need a doctor. Some cranberry juice would fix everything."

Fuuto had flinched and half rose from the table. Then narrowed his eyes. "Will you stop freaking me out already? I get it. I won't do it again."

"No." Masaomi already had the syringe uncapped and the needle in the IV. "You don't."

And little brother was out.

The fourth reason why he didn't have any girlfriends was that, other than his hidden, diabolical temper, Masaomi was an extreme pacifist. He avoided getting angry, even for the right reasons. More than one woman had left him when he hadn't risen up to argue with them or challenge other men. Because above being naturally mild-mannered, Masaomi had always been deeply ashamed of the dark punishments he had given in his fits of fury.

Of course, it would be Ema to bring this out of him after eighteen years of silence. Ema, the little girl in the body of a woman.

 **Author's note: I hate reading over stuff I've written, especially after reading something written so well by someone else it gives me spasms of pleasure. Man, I got so far to go still.**


	5. Peckers

5

He didn't castrate Fuuto. That was extreme even by his standards. He simply circumcised him.

It had been his recommendation to his mother to help prevent future infections. While largely religious in origin, circumcision was also done for hygienic reasons. And also, since his mother was less than pleased that her second to youngest son had chosen to play about enough to get said infection—as well as mess with his sister, she had been more than happy with Masaomi's suggestion to scare him away from sticking his wiener into places it didn't belong.

Still, the poor boy was very, very sore, and now showed more terrified respect for Masaomi than any of his other older brothers combined.

Ukyo reported that he had gotten Kaname, on Louise's suggestion, to talk to Ema. Masaomi was pleased to see Ema returning to her usual happy, friendly self. He used Wataru as a sort of red herring so he could watch over her without seeming creepy or overly interested. Though even he had to admit that he was pushing it a bit, as Wataru wasn't the cute little ten-year-old he used to be, but a teenager in his own right, to everyone's growing chagrin.

"What do you want to be with more: an athlete, an idol, an actor, or a CEO? I'll become whichever one you want."

The way Wataru jut out his jaw as he said this made Masaomi drop his face into his hands. Now there was someone who had no qualms about age difference.

Ema was struck dumb. What does one say to that? And, like he had mentioned, Wataru wasn't a cute little kid anymore. Neither he nor Ema could wave away his words to childish fantasy anymore.

"Wataru, she's not going to want to be with anyone who makes her that uncomfortable," he said.

Wataru stiffened and whipped out an old fashion, childish grin.

"Then forget what I said, Ema. What do you want to play next?"

Ema looked down at her video game controller as though she had forgotten it, but appeared more than happy to leave the topic.

But as he watched them, crashing cars into the side of the screen and yelling pseudo curses, he found himself surprisingly bitter towards Wataru that he could even say those sorts of things. At his age, now a ripe 34 going on 35, Masaomi would sound like an idiot spouting those words.

He was old. Old and unappealing and a freaking pedophile for his sister.

Coming up with an excuse that he hardly heard to usher Wataru away, he herded the kid back to his room then walked back to his own room up to his eyes in something dark, acidic tasting, and painful. One by one, his other brothers passed through his mind's eye, all in love with the half woman, half girl, each one younger and more vibrant than the last.

Oh yeah. This was why he hadn't looked up. This was why he had tried not to pay too much attention.

Not long after Fuuto stopped the mincing walk of the freshly circumcised (giving the boy painkillers would have frustrated Masaomi's intentions), he was having a day not unlike every other day. A mother about his age with her little boy came to their appointment. There had been a small outbreak of hand, foot, and mouth disease, which gave babies and toddlers blisters on their…well, think of the name.

He had just finished verifying to her that her little boy had this, as it wasn't difficult to diagnose. She had given that wan smile that instantly told him she had more on her plate than the usual.

"It's probably best that he stay home and get a bit of spoiling," Masaomi didn't miss the tensing about her eyes and the drop to her shoulders. "Having blisters on the back of your throat and on your feet doesn't exactly make the happiest of players, and daycares won't accept him like this anyways. He should be noncontagious once the blisters are gone."

She nodded and sighed. "That's going to be hard to work out."

"I can write up a note for your employer. That should help in getting your time off."

"It's not so much the time off but the money I'm worried about."

He nodded, unable to do much there. He already donated a hefty amount to the local charity for single parents and their kids. He also knew it would be tactless to ask if she had anyone else who could watch her son, or even a husband, at that.

She seemed to sense the sympathy in his eyes, for she gave him a soft, gracious smile. It made the circles under her eyes more pronounced.

"I'll be alright, doctor." She hesitated. "Do you have any kids?"

"No. But I have several handfuls of little brothers that keep me busy enough. My mother is a career woman who works overseas, and my father passed away over a decade ago."

She nodded, cocking her head to the side. "Does your wife not want any?"

"Oh, I'm not married." And because he knew what would follow, he stood and stepped towards the door. "I'll send in that prescription for you. Let me know if anything new develops." He gave a smile to the dark haired three-year-old on his table, happily sucking at a cold popsicle with numbing attributes.

Apparently, however, he had not moved out of the area quickly enough. As soon as he turned the paper to his office assistant, he felt a hand touch his sleeve and found the mother with a shy little smile, her little boy on her hip.

"Would it be too weird to ask if you'd like to have coffee sometime?"

He gave her his smile, that same smile that he gave to everyone.

"I'm afraid I'm completely booked for some time. Being a doctor and having kids at home does that."

He could tell she was disappointed, but her small smile didn't falter. She just nodded, thanked him again, and left the office.

Dani, a plump, neighborhood mom type of woman and the top hen of his flock of clucking office/medical assistants, tittered.

"You're going to need to come up with a better excuse than that, Doctor."

"I prefer not resorting to an outright lie."

"Then just tell her you aren't interested in dating," said Kyoi, before sliding the little glass pane between the office and the waiting room to call his next patient. She was around his age, but happily married with two little girls. She was more or less Dani's second in command since she was one of the few who had never considered Masaomi as a candidate for romance.

He opened his mouth to say that was a lie but closed it. Stupid. Never even hint that you were interested in dating to a gaggle of office woman.

But Dani wouldn't miss that. Top hen indeed. She slapped her hands to her plentiful cheeks.

"Oooo! You like someone!"

He dropped his clipboard and did his best not to make his fleeing obvious as he followed another, now gawking female medical assistant to his next client.

Of course he was still interested in dating. He just…wasn't interested in dating. Yes, that would have only made sense to him.

He sighed through his nose as he shone a light onto the swollen tonsils of a miserable twelve-year-old. Her mother had just vacated to hold the hand of another child enduring pre-school shots.

"My standards are too high," he said.

He tapped her mouth closed and reached again to feel the swollen lymph nodes on the sides of her neck.

"Too high for what?" she asked.

He winced at her raspy voice. "Women. I'm getting too old to be single."

The preteen furrowed her brow. "Even old people get married, though that's just gross."

"I thought a girl like you would say it is sweet."

She sniffed as though offended, though it doubled to stop the snot from dropping down. Poor thing. "I ain't no girly girl. Besides, if you think about old people getting married, you have to think about them doing…you know…"

He gaped at her, both appalled and so amused he nearly busted out in laughter. "You are way too young to know about the birds and the bees."

She blushed and looked at her knees.

Just one of the many reasons he loved his job.

That being said, it did set his mind down the wrong track. Birds and the bees wasn't exactly a good thing for a thirty-four-year-old virgin to think about. It wasn't like he was totally blind to the pleasures it promised. He'd…yeah. Bad place to go.

For the rest of the evening, he dealt with the hen pecking of the office girls and the lone male medical assistant about his reason for still wanting to date while not accepting any offers. It made him long for his testosterone, brother filled house, and when he got home he stopped to smell the faint cone-chiff smell of male on the couch just to purge his system. Or, rather, he collapsed face first on the sofa from exhaustion, so the smell was inevitable.

Next thing he knew, fingers in his hair stirred him from a heavy sleep. Too groggy to care who was touching him, he mentally reached for the fuzzy darkness. He had the vague feeling that he had been dreaming about something to do with old women tying him down with Christmas lights.

"They all work so hard…"

His sleepy mind purred at the sound. What a nice, gentle voice.

"You should be asleep too, Juli, so shh. You'll wake him."

When was the last time someone had touched him like this? Had stroked his hair as careful as butterflies through flowers? Mother? Had it really been so long? God, how had he gone so long without this?

Unbidden, his eyes began to burn beneath his closed lids. Something within him cracked open, raw and keening. And when the fingers finally lifted away, an actual whine left his throat, waking him up with a flash of shame. Horrified, he feigned sleep, hoping she hadn't heard.

Whether she did or not, he'd never know. A blanket was thrown over him and her soft footsteps padded up and away.

He waited before returning to his room, clutching the worn quilt about him like a coat against the storm. It was a while before he caught on to sleep again.

 **Author's note: What do you guys think so far?**


	6. Phlegm

6

He woke up with his throat hot, raw, and nearly swollen shut. His sinuses had decided to aspire to the impossible, that of a watery, weeping desert that hated the very thought of air. After checking that he had an impressive fever to match, he called in, something that the hospital and his clucking brood hated to deal with. That meant lots of calls, lots of pushing back appointments, and lots of angry parents. But it wasn't like a doctor could go in sick, let alone one to children.

Despite being beyond exhausted, the agony of his face and throat made sleep impossible. He tossed and turned before begrudgingly coming to the terms with the fact that he'd have to brave the common room in order to find something to drink to help along the meds. Having grown up in a house full of men had made him, along with his brothers, extremely reluctant to show any sort of weakness.

He took several breaks on his way down to the kitchen to fight off both dizziness and the urge to curl up on the floor and try to sleep again. Thinking of the knowledgeable twelve-year-old he must have gotten this from (the type of virus to get past his beast of an immune system had to be impressive indeed), he had to appreciate her ability to find any humor feeling like this. Old people sex indeed.

Ema found him sitting on the floor in front of the stove, a kitchen rag held to his nose since it hurt too much to sniff.

"Masaomi! What's wrong?"

He inwardly groaned. Out of all the people to find him. Screw it, he didn't need to get married. Dying here and now sounded great.

He quickly wiped and stuffed the rag away. "It's just a cold." He sounded like Batman. A chain-smoker Batman.

"It's got to be a little more than that to bring you down," she crouched down to put a hand on his forehead. "Wow, yeah. I don't think this is a cold."

Despite knowing he should, he didn't wave her hand away. Weakened as he was, he feared he might let out another unintended whine if she let go. But then, of course, she did pull away and he was lucky his vocal chords were too swollen to work at that pitch.

"I already took some medicine," he said thickly. "I'm a doctor. I'm fine."

"So you say. Are you trying to boil water?"

"Yeah."

"Um, you forgot to turn it on."

He groaned and dropped his throbbing, hateful skull back against the oven. What kind of tonsillitis gave you a sinus infection at the same time anyways? He'd have to look into this. Could be a new virus.

He felt her fingers again, this time across the curls on his head. She hadn't left. How much time had passed? Did he just fall asleep?

"Masaomi, your tea's done. Do you want it now or in your room?"

Well, it needed time to steep, and this floor was cold. But back in his room, she wouldn't be there with her cool fingers in his hair. Why hadn't she just let him sleep?

"Um…uh…"

Sensing the mire his thoughts had become, she patted down the hair she had been lightly combing through. "I'll take it to your room. Take your time."

She walked away. He rolled in her direction and found his feet. Once he had clung to the fridge for sufficiently long enough for his vision to clear, he shuffled his way up the stairs, letting his traitorous skull wag with each step. Or, at least, it felt like it did. God, why couldn't he just chop it off? Suck out his stupid tonsils? Because that was suicide. Gal, when had he become such a baby? Wait…had he always been a baby?

He nearly tripped over Ema standing next to his door. Would the humiliations never cease?

"I forgot it was locked," she said sheepishly.

He blinked at her until his brain processed what he was doing and opened the door unhindered.

"Oh…" she said.

Like he ever locked his door.

He had shuffled to his bed before remembering he had to take the tea from her, only to turn around and find Ema standing on his heavy, braided rug with the cup and saucer in her hands. For some reason, all he seemed to notice was that her pink socked feet look really cute against the dark navy and gray. And that there was an old set of boxers under her heel.

"I'll just…put it on the nightstand."

He hardly heard her. The boxers glared out at him. What was he, a teenager? Why the hell hadn't he picked up his dirty underwear from off the floor? Ugh, to have her see that.

"Masaomi?" A chink of china on wood. "You should lie down."

Why? It wasn't like he'd be able to sleep. He might as well clean up his room. All he needed now was for Ema to think him a slob as well as a pedophile.

"Masaomi?"

He had meant to fall back onto his bed when the dizziness and black dots returned while he had tried to bend down to swipe the offending trousers away. Instead, his heavy, feverish, infected head tipped him forward.

Warm softness caught him. Dimly, he wondered if he had just smeared snot on his pillow. Great. But at least air wasn't getting to his nose. Couldn't have that happen, perish the thought.

He leaned back. Softness beneath him. Softness above. Warmth. Gah, his eyes hurt. And now his dignity felt like crap. Underwear on the floor. Ema, he wasn't a slob. Not a teenager.

Cool, familiar fingers brushed through his hair.

"Don't worry about it. Just sleep. It will make it better."

Before he could wonder what she would think he had to worry about, her touch lulled him somewhere far away from his hurt.

 **Author's Note: Thank you so much for the reviews. ^.^ They are my bread and butter.**


	7. Perfect

7

When he finally woke up some nameless hours later, his room had been cleaned.

Baffled, disturbed, wary, he looked at the empty laundry hamper, the dustless nightstand, to the organized desk. Even the pink bunny he usually had in his pocket had been tastefully positioned by his nose shaped cup of pens.

Then he dropped his face into his hands. There was only one person who could have done this. Brothers only cleaned other brother's rooms in extreme, health hazarding circumstances. Masaomi's room had only been neglected, not necessarily dirty.

While a part of him was grateful, the fact that she had felt the need to clean it…gah! He wasn't a child!

A light knock came at his door, distracting him from his humiliation. Before he could say anything, Emma walked in, a mug cupped in her hands. The smile she gave him blinded him. How could anyone look so happy in the presence of someone so gross?

"You look much better. I hope you don't mind that I cleaned your room. You kept mumbling about it bothering you, so I thought it would help you sleep better if I did. I promise I haven't thrown anything away that wasn't obviously trash and I, um, yeah." She set the mug on his nightstand. Her face looked a little pink. "Sorry."

"No, I should be sorry that you felt like you had to do it." At least his voice had downgraded to simple Batman rather than chain-smoker Batman.

"I didn't think I had to. I wanted to. I mean, not clean your room because I thought it was dirty, because I wanted to help—help you, I mean. Not that I wanted to help you clean your room, you're fully capable of that…" she clenched her hands in front of her and looked pointedly at the floor. "I'm just going to give up on talking now. Hope the tea isn't too sweet." She turned to leave.

His hand grabbed for her without his permission and caught a handful of her flowy blouse. She looked as surprised as he felt. It was just, the thought of her leaving…

He snatched the offense back. "No, it's fine. Really. Thank you, truly."

The corners of her mouth lifted slightly, then dropped as she seemed to consider something. Tentively, she reached for his brow. He had to hold himself back from leaning into her touch. There could be no describing the rush of contentment the contact gave him. It made him feel small again, like a babe curled on his mother's lap, but deeper.

"I think your fever's broken, at least. Would you like something to eat?"

"Only if it isn't too much trouble. I can get myself food."

"No, let me. You've taken care of me when I was sick more than enough times. I want to return the favor."

He wanted to tell her there had been no favor intended, that he loved when she was sick because he had been able to spend time with her without guilt…but he had more sanity than that. Talk about opening himself up to sounding like a real sadist. Could a virgin be a sadist?

After she left, he dragged himself into the shower. Whatever magical energy that had made him feel less fatigued when he first woke up went down the drain along with a gallon of snot. While not as dizzy or in pain to breathe, he still felt like a zombie shuffling down the stairs to the kitchen. He took it slow, as he was in his socks and didn't want to slip.

Which probably also gave him the unwitting side effect of walking silently, as the sound of voices went uninterrupted.

"Why don't you ever take care of me when I'm sick? You know what this does to me. Why do you have to be so cruel?"

"I-I never meant, I never knew—"

"What, my feelings for you? We both know this is a lie."

"Tsubaki, don't-!"

He turned the corner to find said bleached-haired twin pressing Ema against a counter, hands in her hair, face descending.

Ema looked nothing short of alarmed, and not in a good way.

Masaomi barked, "Oy!"

If he hadn't been so furiously heated up, Masaomi might have been able to appreciate how quickly Tsubaki jumped away from her, ram rod straight, eyes bulging at the sight of his glaring, eldest brother.

The spike of pain that gave his throat and the sudden noise made him momentarily dizzy, so he propped himself with an elbow on the fridge and his curled fist to his forehead to disguise it as he glared out from underneath his curled fingers.

"I don't see her looking happy that you're sexually assaulting her in her own home," he growled. The sickly Batman rasp certainly added to the intimidation factor.

Tsubaki threw up his hands. "Sexually assault is a bit of a jump—"

"If I catch you doing anything like that again, just ask Fuuto why he's been so sore of late."

The twin was already sliding out of the room, but his initial shock had begun to melt away, and a trace of resentment came into his expression.

"This really isn't any of your business, Masaomi."

The fire in him spiked violently. Whatever Tsubaki saw in the look Masaomi shot him made him blanch and turn tail, though to anyone else it would have looked like a cocky saunter to somewhere better. One tended to see much more when they helped raise a person.

Only once Tsubaki's footsteps reached the top of the stairs did Masaomi let out his rage in a puff of fatigue and leaned more heavily on the fridge, running a hand down his face. Then he caught sight of Ema's wide eyes and dropped jaw.

A flush of shame heated his cheeks.

"I'm sorry, I should have thought of how uncomfortable that might make you." Ugh, as if he didn't have enough making him undesirable in her eyes. "I swear, me losing it like that is an extreme rarity. It hasn't happened for years. It's just because I'm sick, I'm so sorry if I scared you."

"It's okay!" She looked a touch alarmed once more. "Masaomi, I've lived with you for two years, now. You can trust me to know what's normal for you and what isn't."

 _Still._ He covered his face with his hand.

For a few minutes, he simply stood there, miserable, while he listened to the gas stove hiss and the spoon scrape the bottom of the pot as she stirred.

"It's going to be a few more minutes," she said. "Why don't you sit down?"

After he had invested so much heat into warming the front of the fridge? "Do you mind if I just sit here?"

"Not at all."

So he slid down to the floor. The fridge down here was still cold. He should have brought a blanket. And a new pair of sweats was in order. These ones had grown thin with the years.

He shivered when her fingers brushed his forehead again.

"You're burning up again." He heard the rustle of fabric as she crouched down. "Are you sure you shouldn't see a doctor? Dumb question, you are a doctor, but, you know…"

"I treated a girl with the same thing," he said. "It wasn't strep, so if I get the usual rest and liquids I should be okay. Forgive me for making you worry."

"Oh, that's just me. Worry wart number one. Would you like some tea with your rice?"

He shrugged. "Sure." It was starting to hurt to try and breathe through his nose again.

Eventually, she did get him onto the couch. Another wispy, butterfly like brush of her fingers and he became her puppet to command. He wouldn't have been surprised if she managed to sit him down in a bathtub full of ice without complaint. How had he gone so long without her touch? Oh, if she'd only let him lay his head on her lap, that would be heaven.

He expected her to leave once she set the rice porridge and tea on the coffee table before him. Instead, she sat next to him and turned on the TV.

"You don't mind if I play a game, do you?"

"Not at all." And before he could think better of it. "I'm enjoying your company. I can't remember the last time I've been the one to be taken care of while sick."

The smile she flashed him was another brilliant one.

The game she put in was another of Natsume's games in the works that she beta tested for him. Masaomi watched with mild interest, having never gotten into video games himself, but having many fond memories of enjoying watching his brothers play. The old nostalgia came over him as he watched her. When he finished the rice and tea, Ema whisked the dishes away before he could say a word and returned with the worn quilt from on his bed.

"In case going to your room would be lonely," she said, expression gently wry.

He happily curled up in it, folding his legs onto the couch, already feeling several years younger.

Her lap became even more tempting as his eyelids drooped. A stomach full of warm, gentle food didn't help. Outside it had gone dark and he wondered where everyone had gone for dinner. Ukyo had to go out of town for a trial, but surely there was someone. Or had he missed them? It was hard to concentrate with his head aching like it did and his throat full of swollen stones of lava.

Surely it wouldn't be too forward if he asked. He was her brother. And broad shoulders made lying on your side without a pillow uncomfortable.

"Ema?" his face grew so hot he broke out in a sweat. He should stop while he was ahead.

"Yes?" Her eyes didn't leave the screen. Her lips had pursed in concentration.

"Would it be uncomfortable for you if I…if I used your lap as a pillow? If that's too weird—"

"Sure." The lips had relaxed into a warm smile and lifted up her hands with the controller. "Lap's all yours."

Unable to believe his luck, he stretched his legs out and gingerly laid his throbbing, heavy, sick head onto her soft lap. She pulled the box of tissues closer when he gave a loud, painful sniff, then pulled the blanket higher over his shoulders so it tucked in around his ears. He thought his heart might burst.

"Ema?"

"Mmhmm?"

"Thank you. You're…marvelous."

"…Thank you."

And within minutes he was out once more.


	8. Plot

8

"Heard from our beloved younger red-head that he had to save our darling little sister from one of Kaname's Buddha friends a few weeks back."

Masaomi glanced at Hikaru where he had dropped on the couch besides him. An old anime played on the TV, and a waste basket full of tissues sat at his feet.

"Well, he didn't volunteer the information willingly," Hikaru said. "This time, it was Ema leaving his room, not the other way around, though I doubt anything was happening over how hard the poor girl was crying."

Masaomi stiffened, but did his best to hide it from his brother. No weakness. And his head still hurt.

Hikaru waited for a commercial break before going on. "Apparently he had to pull him off her throat. Literally. Man said something about making her his in public in order to destroy the 'perverted brothers.' I'm sure there's more to it, but you can't depend on Yusuke to keep the details in order. He sees, he kills, he leaves. It's one of my favorite qualities about him."

"Where was this?"

"At some club her friends invited her too. Honestly, if Yusuke hadn't overheard and tagged alone…some friends."

Masaomi tugged out a tissue and blew his nose. He saw stars. Every time. At least the pain in his throat had started to calm down.

Hikaru sighed. "Sometimes I think we're ending up as the source of all trouble for her. An attempted public rape, and why? Because Kaname loves her? Talk about a soap opera."

Masaomi had the feeling Hikaru had purposely said the word 'rape' just to rile him up. It unnerved him.

"Why are you telling me this?" Normally, Hikaru kept to himself, unless sharing the information would serve his own purposes. More entertaining for him that way.

"Because I'm displeased." Hikaru touched a finger to his cheek and winked at him. "And I'm not nearly as clever as I look."

With that, he got up, stretched, and left with a self-satisfied sway to his hips.


	9. Pressure

9

Deciding to give in and get involved with what was going on with Ema and his brothers had its downside. He now loathed overtime, which filled him with more anxiety than seeing a toddler next to a clogged toilet with a happy grin. The plumber had to come over to their house so many times.

At the end of his first week back, he put his foot down. In his efforts to impress on his flock how important it was for him to be home at a decent time (he couldn't watch over Ema if he wasn't even there), he made the mistake of mentioning that, eventually, he would get married and have children and would need to be home at a decent time to be a father and husband, so they needed to start getting use to it now and plan accordingly.

The force which Dani slapped her puffy cheeks in her excitement hurt his ears and made the other girl in the office wince.

"Who is she? WHO?"

"No one," he said as patiently as he could. "But it's going to happen someday."

"You wouldn't say that unless you had a girl on your mind, Doctor, don't try to put one over me. I'm older than you and have worked with you for the better part of the last ten years, ever since you were a cute little intern. Aren't you a little old for secret crushes anyways?"

He hesitated. If he threw down a crumb of the truth, they may all converge on it so loudly he'd have time to escape. But if he did, they'd be pecking on him first thing in the morning for new clues.

What the hell. They pecked on him anyways.

"It's…one sided."

Dani rolled her bulk about in the office chair, delight sparking in her eyes, but round fists perched on her love handles in disapproval.

"Aren't you a man? Fight for her! Or did you turn chicken overnight?"

He tried not to smile at that particular analogy. Best to not let them know how he privately thought of them.

Kyoi and another office girl turned on him as well, all frowns and furrowed brows.

"Yeah," said Kyoi. "Women get turned on by emotional security, and there ain't no security in some guy who isn't even willing to prove his love."

"Nothing sexy about a wimp," said the other, Yona, who had long, dyed orange hair that always reminded him of his younger brother Natsume.

"Well there isn't anything that would attract her to me in the first place, so confidence isn't going to help much." He made a grab for his folders and turned. Time to run.

"Excuse me, boy?" Oh no. Dani had rolled out the mama-hen-is-going-to-peck-your-eyes-out tone. "Confidence is everything, and if you're going to let the first girl to actually catch your eye instead of the other way around be snatched up just because you're a coward, I'm lining you up with appointments so hard, you ain't gonna have time to date any women anyways."

Kyoi, Yona, and the lone male medical assistant somewhere behind him 'ooed' like kids in the peanut gallery to a fight.

Masaomi dropped his face onto the counter.

"Please. You don't know the situation."

"What situation is there to understand?" Kyoi chirped. "It is a girl, right?"

"Yes!" Best he get that out there before the lone male medical assistant heard. Masaomi had his suspicions about him.

"Is she legal?" asked Dani dryly.

Ema was eighteen. Masaomi had not missed that day at all. "Yes."

"Is she single?" asked Yona, a bit more gently than the other two.

More 'ooo's came from the peanut gallery. Oh god, another medical assistant had dropped into the conversation. Did he have the whole office on him now?

Yona wrinkled her brow. "What? Love knows no boundaries."

"Excuse me?" Kyoi snapped, who was fiercely loyal to her husband and took offense to that.

He lifted up the folder, as though he could use it to fan away the attention, his face hot. "She's legal, she's single, and it's _not happening_. Please, girls? I have a patient waiting for me."

"Which is why you better tell us a reason why," snapped Dani, and Masaomi couldn't help but see her as the hen with her comb bright and feathers puffed up. "I can't see you break your own heart like this. You know you're like a son to me, right?"

The other girls nodded. Yona looked especially sympathetic.

Sighing, and unable to deny the little spark of hope in his chest that maybe… "She…she sort of has…a whole lot of guys going for her. Like a whole lot."

"You're in love with a model?" some girl in the back shrieked.

"No!" He stabbed the air with the medical file. "Now I am seeing to my patient and then going home, so help me god!"

And he did so. He even managed to slip out while the rest of them were wrapping up for the evening so no one had the chance to demand any more answers.

 **Author's Note: When are they going to freaking update the translation Fuuto/Yusuke and the twins manga for Brother's Conflict? They've been out forever! Though I am getting this daydream of late of being hired on to finish the stories for all the brother's endings. Gal, that would be fun. I don't know if they'd take my version of Masaomi though...But I could redo that!**


	10. Prepare

10

Somehow, through miraculous powers unexplainable to mankind, Dani gleaned that the reason why he wanted home on time was because of said girl. Using her massive organization prowess that had gotten her to the top of the pecking order in the first place, she managed to not only get him home on time for more than half the days of the next week, but even a few hours early Friday evening.

The look she gave him as he walked out, though, told him she expected him to pay her back with romantic action, and possibly baby-making. Another one of her favorite topics to peck him about.

' _A man who loves children this much deserves to have some of his own, if only to break to him how awful and glorious a thing spawn are to their parents. You need to watch them start to hate you and move away.'_

Thank heavens his real mother hadn't yet gotten on him on making her grandbabies.

Mind happy with plans of all the lounging and reading ahead of him, he parked and walked up the steps to see someone standing at the door. A male someone, with familiar carefully kept gray hair. Silver rings gleamed from his right ear.

Of course Masaomi knew the two men who worked with Kaname in his infamous Buddha Club. What kind of brother would he be if he didn't?

Every muscle in his body tensed as the man turned and saw him.

"Ho, big brother! It's been a while." His smile was broad and inviting, as though he really were delighted to see Masaomi, who recognized Chiaki, since he was younger and had a less respectable air about him as Yuusei. The fashionable street clothes he wore didn't help in that regards.

He gave the younger man his practiced smile that he gave to everyone.

"It has, Chi-chan. What can I help you with?"

"Well," he scratched the back of his head, though Masaomi wondered if he had ever truly felt sheepish in his life. "That adorable little sister of yours invited me over, but I think she might have forgotten our meeting and fallen asleep or something. That, or she doesn't hear me ringing. Your complex here is super awesome high tech, by the way."

The monster in his gut stirred, sniffing the air, fire heating.

"I can check for you, if you like."

His face lit up. "That would be great! Could you?"

Internally, the monster within him smirked. Suddenly, Masaomi wanted him inside very, very much.

So he invited him in, even led him up to the private fifth floor, where he sat him on a couch in the living room and offered him tea while he waited. He wanted him to have some tea.

Luckily, Chiaki happily agreed.

"Then I'll put some water on and go check her room for you," he said, keeping that default smile on his face.

As he filled the teapot, he checked his back pocket for his phone, just in case. He waited till he was upstairs and out of Chiaki's view before taking out it out. As it rang, he headed in the opposite direction of Ema's room towards his own.

" _What's up, big bro?_ " came Yusuke's voice. " _Kind of in the middle of class—"_

"Which one of Kaname's friends attacked Ema at the club?"

Yusuke choked on something. " _H-how do you-? Damn Hikaru. Why do you need to know?"_

Masaomi had never doubted that Hikaru was telling the truth, but the confirmation was nice all the same. It fed the beast within him. Now it was only imperative that as much information remained with him as possible.

"If you could tell me quickly so you can get back to class," he said, careful to keep his voice nonchalant.

" _Um, well, he had like silver hair like some old guy, I remember that. The other guy is blond, this jerk wasn't. I can't keep their names straight. He also only had one ear pierced."_

Bingo.

" _Seriously, man, what's going on?"_

"Nothing. Thank you. Go back to class."

He hung up in the middle of his brother's squawk of confusion.

Next, he called Hikaru. By then, he had reached his room and already had the small, blue basket of his more potent barely-legal-to-be-at-home meds from the top of his wardrobe.

" _Yes'm?"_

"Did you invite Chiyaki over here?"

" _If I did, would it matter? By the way, that woman who you work with, Dani? Wonderful lady."_

Masaomi didn't smile. He didn't appreciate being played like this. But it was too late now. He had already found the bottle he was looking for, so he just hung up without another word. As he looked for the small, almost ornamental mortar and pedestal to grind the pills, he called up yet another brother.

"Ukyo, I need you home now, if you can."

" _You're lucky I'm on a late lunch break. What's up?_ "

"I'll explain when you get here."

With that, he ended the call, and turned his attention to grinding like lightning.


	11. Perform

11

Ukyo went straight to white the moment he saw Chiyaki's limp body on the sofa.

"Oh dear god, it's finally happened. You've killed someone."

Masaomi, who had been antsy and tense mixed with flaming heat he wasn't use to anymore, glared at him without thinking, making the lawyer jump.

"He's asleep," he hissed. "The fact you'd even think that, really?"

"Sorry, sorry." He pushed his glasses up his nose, though his eyes said otherwise. "Soooo…why?"

"He tried to rape Ema."

Ukyo's blue eyes bugged out of his head. He fought to sound calm as he asked Masaomi how he knew this.

"Yusuke and Hikaru. Also got a witness from Subaru that helps support their events." Namely that he had heard Ema more distressed than he ever had the night she came home from their group date.

"And you need me to…?"

Masaomi flashed his brother a pale grin. "I need you to verify his address for me. You keep Kaname's records with the monastery."

"Do I want to know why?"

Masaomi shrugged. "To take him home."

"Why do I get the feeling knocking him out isn't all you're intending to do?"

"Because it's not." Masaomi got his arms under the man's pits. "Grab his legs."

They got Chiyaki into the back of one of the family cars and, due to Ukyo's phenomenal meticulousness, they had the address and were on the road in three minutes flat. Masaomi kept an eye on his watch. Chiyaki would most likely sleep through the night, if undisturbed, but the hard core unconsciousness that only a nuclear catastrophe could break would only last for the first forty minutes. He now had thirty.

"You know his door is probably locked," said Ukyo.

Masaomi tugged out a keychain that didn't look unlike Kaname's. The same Buddhist symbols dangled beneath the three keys, though Kaname's had many more keys than that.

The blond man shook his head. "You should have been a spy."

"I'd much rather be what I am," he said. "And I don't exactly like being this way."

"Then why are you?"

Because he had to be.

Probably the most cliché excuse in the world, but Masaomi hadn't been born this way. And like a recovering addict returning to his bane, he found himself almost out of control in following the steel like fury that sharpened his mind and shot him forward like a bullet. It gave him a sense of fierce protective power that he unfortunately had confidence to back. He knew how to get what he wanted and how to take away any defense his enemy had to fight back. The only thing that had stopped was his own, innate compassion.

It had all started after his mother gave birth to the triplets.

It had been building for a while. While Masaomi's father had been a kind man, four young children and three screaming toddlers in a small, three bedroom apartment would have pressed the most patient, and he had only ever been average. Add in the strain to make ends meet and when their father came home to the craziness and the wife who desperately needed a break, the only way he knew to bring about some semblance of control to the chaos was through madness. While he never outright physically abused them or made them feel worthless, there had been much screaming, slaps, and fury that didn't quell when his wife came into play.

As an adult looking back, he knew his father had only been doing his best to help his mother the best way he knew how. He had grown up an only child and what he knew about handling children he gleaned from his short evenings with his kids. Blue collar jobs were also physically demanding. He was tired. He was stressed. And triplets? Three toddlers? One was enough to drive him up the wall.

But his younger self, which watched over his little brothers so carefully, didn't understand that. Rather than growing afraid like his brothers, he grew furious.

His fury snapped when his father roared at his mother for asking a simple question and made her cry. But at nine years old, he was smart enough to know that if he lashed out at his father, it would only make everything ten times worse. The fact that a nine year old could have such coherency of thought while so angry was surprising in and of itself, and to his day he wondered at the kind of child he had been.

So…he plotted.

At first it was strategy of distracting his siblings and placing them out of the way, but his father still tried to get involved. Also, he was only nine, and his siblings thought him no parent or God to obey.

Then it was petty pranks. Things his father couldn't nail down. But which, in turn, also made things worse as it flustered his father even more.

Finally, at ten, he came with the perfect plan. During class he asked to go to the nurse, who, once she had bandaged whatever wound he had inflicted on himself and verified he wasn't sick, sent him off. As quick as he could, he dashed home, slashed the tires on his father's car (the man had been 'coincidentally' sick that day), attached a letter to the windshield wipers, and sprinted back to school in time for PE, where his sweatiness and lateness wouldn't be noticed.

The letter only had one sentence pasted together from old newspapers.

 _Treat your family better, or else._

Since his mother had been out of town and the rest of the kids capable of such a feet in school with alibis, his father had no one to blame but a neighbor. And, well, you couldn't very well go accusing a neighbor of such a thing without proof, especially with a warning like that. Neighbors, after all, were the ones who called social services.

His father did get better. There was obvious strain, mainly a weird squeaking when his dad dropped his volume mid-shout and a weird pulsing vein in his neck whenever he held himself back, but it was better.

During this time, his mother adopted Louise. She didn't get pregnant, which Masaomi had his suspicions about seeing as that had been the time his father had peeked in his frustrations. Not too long after Masaomi's success, however, she once more got pregnant.

Still, it wasn't long afterwards that Masaomi came to terms with the fact that his home wasn't the only place he'd have to battle against his own powerlessness to protect his family. After all, society's rules were incredibly pacifist.

But then, so was he.

Chiyaki's apartment wasn't high end. Being a Buddhist monk or a companion didn't exactly pay well. Even so, he found it disturbingly well furnished to give the impression of wealth while using cheap materials.

Ukyo wrinkled his nose at the velvet red coverings on the entertainment center, complete with dollar store mini-fountains and little wooden buddhas. "Tacky."

Masaomi directed them to the couch.

"Find me a garbage bag," he said as he made a beeline to the bathroom. He had brought his own tools, but it was always better to leave the evidence in the other's.

He worried that Ukyo wouldn't out of suspicion, but when he returned with Chiyaki's electric clippers, Ukyo had the black bag. He had even fanned it out. He eyed Masaomi warily as he plugged in the clippers and pulled Chiyaki's head farther over the arm of the sofa.

"You can still counterfeit handwriting, yes?" he murmured, tucking the plastic beneath Chiyaki's head and tucking the other ends into the front of his belt so that the bag made a hammock beneath his head.

"I have understandably not practiced that particular talent in quite some time."

With the clippers in one hand, Masaomi tugged out a phone from his other pocket.

"Passcode is 6264," he flicked on the clippers.

"Is this his—how do you know that?"

Masaomi ignored that question. They didn't have time. "Look up pictures of bald celebrities and leave the windows open on the phone. Next, in his hand writing, write 'hot' on the bathroom mirror in the soap next to the sink."

"This seems rather childish for something as bad as attempted rape."

"It isn't if you're entire career and lifestyle hang on your looks." The quiet flop of the first lock of silver hair into the plastic hit him with dark thrill of satisfaction. "Hurry. We got maybe ten minutes until he falls into normal sleep."

Ukyo went towards the bedroom to look for handwriting, his eyes to the phone.

Masaomi was no hairstylist. But he could sheer of hair, and since he was aiming for something that looked like drunken stupidity, his lack of skill came in handy. And each plop of hair bundles into the bag felt to Masaomi like a punch delivered to the fool who dared to harm one of his precious younger siblings.

Once he'd gotten off most of Chiyaki's hair, Masaomi turned off the clippers and carefully tugged the plastic from beneath his 'patient's' head. He passed Ukyo on his way to the bathroom with his bundle of hair, which he proceeded to artfully sprinkle about the sink, above which the word 'hot' in very un-Ukyo handwriting had been spelt across the mirror with hard hand soap. He left the clippers on the side of the sink and plugged them into the nearest outlet. His brother handed him the phone once he had turned, and Masaomi was pleased to see his brother had had the forethought to pull Chiyaki down off the couch's armrest into a more comfortable, natural position.

Sure enough, the first thing he saw on opening was a rather smoldering portrait of a bald, handsome man of sorts.

Masaomi put the phone on the floor besides the couch.

"Alcohol," he said.

Ukyo was off to the small kitchen. Meanwhile, Masaomi found a glass near the front that had the feel of a favorite for drinks. He held it out to Ukyo, who held a bottle of whiskey and poured into the glass. The moment Masaomi pulled it away, he took a long drag while Ukyo stared, then told Ukyo to poor the majority of the whiskey down the drain.

"It needs to have a mouth print and signs of being drunk out of," he said as he shivered in disgust. He had never been much into alcohol, and the whiskey would have made a weaker man gag.

A quiet groan came from the couch.

Both men stiffened. Masaomi gestured to the coffee table. As quietly as they could, they set out the mostly empty whiskey and glass on the coffee table and made a silent get away out of the house. Masaomi made sure to leave the keys somewhere on the floor.

Not a word was spoken until Ukyo had driven them miles away.

"What if he doesn't fall for any of that?" he asked quietly. "You left your prints all over the place."

Masaomi gave his reflection in the window a thin smile. "But will the cops fall for that? You can't run prints in the system if the cops don't take you seriously."

Ukyo hissed underneath his breath.

"To this day I can't believe I became the lawyer and you became a pediatrician."

"Can we stop talking about this?" Masaomi pinched his nose. The alcohol was getting to his head, making him dizzy along with a deep seated, unexplainable sense of vulnerability.

"Why? Going to puke?"

"No," he pinched harder, wondering if he just might. "Look, I'm the man of the house. It's my job to protect you all. I'm just doing my duty, and assaulting him would just cause more problems and dangers for everyone."

"As you said then too."

"Shut up." Masaomi dropped his forehead to the cool glass and closed his eyes. "Just shut up."

He had to keep his thoughts together for the next step of his plan. Simply shaving the guy's hair wasn't what was going to get the message across to leave his sister alone. He could always grow it back and go back to his usual philandering. That had simply been the initial punishment.

A certain, incriminating letter to the monastery and police, however…he had gotten some pretty interesting information off of the man's phone, after all.

Fool should really replace his screen protectors more often.

 **Author's Note: Being sick really sucks, man. Ugh...at least I have a fluffy friendly cat to cuddle.**


	12. Perspicacity

12

"For the record, Dani, don't tell my brother Hikaru anything."

She cocked her head to the side and gave the most forced, blanked look he had ever seen. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Then for future reference: don't tell Hikaru anything. In fact, don't even talk to him."

She flapped her hand at him dismissively as she turned back to the computer. "You've got twelve brothers, dear, I can't even remember all their names let alone whichever one is Hikaru."

"You can't miss him. He dresses in drag."

That gave her head a spin. She opened her mouth to say something about it, then remembered she didn't want part in this conversation anyways and turned back to whatever she had been up to.

Inwardly, he hefted a heavy sigh. He didn't know why he bothered. It wasn't like it was going to stop her. Not when Hikaru could dangle juicy insiders info on him in exchange for something as simple as his schedule. Why she found so much interest in his life he had never understood. She had three kids of her own. Maybe it was because none of them had married, yet.

He dealt with three other cases of the horrible sinus and tonsil attacking beast that he had gone through. Four regular check ups, two for some older children, one for a toddler, and one for a six month baby with the most adorable fat rolls. He had trouble letting that one go. Though, in hind sight, that cuteness had probably been fate's way of opening him up to the torment about to come, for not soon after he got another baby, this one afflicted with that pesky hand, mouth, and foot virus. The poor, tiny thing could have only been two months old and by its thin, squeaky wails, had been beyond exhausted by the pain and inability to suckle through the blisters in his mouth.

It was by far the worst case he had seen yet. He hated when these ones happened.

"He's going to need to be admitted," he told the exhausted, frayed with worry mother as he bounced her weepy infant. "His lack of milk has made him dehydrated, among other things. Do you nurse or bottle feed?"

"Nurse," her large, dark eyes were wet.

"Then we'll have you on hand with a pump, if you don't mind. We'll need to feed him via straw, but the taste of something familiar should calm him." He gave her his best, reassuring smile, needing it for himself as well. "He'll be okay. You'll both be okay."

His heart broke even further as her face scrunched up and tears leaked out. She probably needed something to eat and drink as well, and since she was nursing and her baby hadn't been suckling, her breasts were probably adding pain to her exhaustion.

He wished he could have tended to them himself and bounce and care for the babe until he and his mother could finally get some much needed relief, but with three more patients lined up, and knowing he didn't necessarily have to, he instead handed them over to chief hen Dani. Her overwhelming need to mother would more than take care of the two, and all the doctors in the building knew better than to make her wait.

For some reason, though, long after he had gotten home, the feeling of the frail, exhausted baby still stuck with him. He thought after all these years, he would have been use to it. After all, he was a pediatrician. His job dealt with sickly kids and babies. But every so often there'd be days one would crack through his tolerance and leave him shaky and weak. To feel so much overwhelming need to fix it made him wonder how mothers ever lived through it with their own children. How he would ever live through his own? Perhaps it were better if he never did have his own.

Though part of the reason he found comfort in being a doctor was because the job involved protecting against non-human enemies. There was no fighting with human nature or laws or societal roles. It was fighting using that which he was most comfortable with: gentility, intelligence, kindness, and empathy. That deep, innate need within him to protect and defend was filled, while his sensitivity to violence was left well enough alone.

On the downside, even as a doctor, he sometimes found himself more powerless than ever before. Maybe he was a masochist instead of a sadist. Why did he even wonder that anyways? Some sort of perverted part of him related to Hikaru? At least a virgin masochist sounded a bit more possible than a virgin sadist.

"Masaomi?"

He looked up from the thriller novel he had been trying to read to see Ema, looking pale and frumpy in a shirt five sizes too big and pink, star patterned pajama pants. On noticing her blotchy cheeks, watery eyes, and raw looking nose, he felt his already sore heart ache.

"Oh no," he groaned. "I gave you what I had, didn't I?"

She stiffened. "It's not that bad," her raspy, quiet voice said otherwise. "I was just wondering, since you had it too, if you knew what meds would help the most." She sniffed and cringed in pain.

He jumped up. "I got some stronger stuff in my room. You should go lay down. Have you eaten anything?"

"No," she said in a tiny voice. "My stomach hurts."

That sometimes happened with sinus infections. All the infected mucous tended to be rather acidic, and combined with the natural loss of appetite that came with sickness, it often left the stomach without any food base to dilute the acid.

Feeling too raw to help himself, he patted her head, only to find himself bending over to hug it to his brow.

Ema sniffed. "Did something happen?"

He wasn't surprised. One of the things his brother's loved about her was her intuition and perception.

"Just…a bad day." He pulled back before he could creep her out and gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "Now, mush to bed. Doctor's orders. I'll bring you the goods."

She gave him a wane little smile and tottered up the stairs past the kitchen while he took the ones in the opposite direction.

He was sure to grab something to sooth her stomach along with the concoction he had used for his own disease. Before taking it to her, he loaded up on oyster crackers in the kitchen.

Her door was unlocked, as he expected. What he didn't expect was the disaster beyond the door.

"Oh…" his eyebrows shot high.

Books, clothes, and socks covered the floor. While he didn't see any garbage, per say, it almost looked like she had flung half of her belongings onto the floor and over furniture. He caught sight of Ema kneeling on the floor with her hands full of wrinkled laundry, probably in the process of picking them up just as he had tried, her face flat on her bed, before an angry squirrel appeared from nowhere and attacked his face.

"Juli!" cracked her voice, followed by a coughing whimper.

The rodent chattered and hissed, claws raking his scalp. Masaomi did his best to remain calm as he set his meds and crackers onto the nearest flat surface and carefully pried the screaming furball off his face. He had been living with the thing for the past few years, so he had that going for him.

"I'm so sorry," she croaked from her slouched position on the floor. "He's been like this for the past few days, I don't know why. And my room…I forgot…"

He handed Juli down to her for management. "You're sick. My room wasn't pristine either, if you recall."

She nodded, face turned against her mattress. He poured out the medicine and iced tea he brought to help her swallow it down, then turned to find she hadn't moved. A blank glaze had come over her half-lided eyes. How far of a stretch would it be to say she had mentally fallen asleep just as he had against the stove?

Again, moved by his aching, rather than just shaking her awake he reached down and pulled her back. It was proof of how unwell she was that she didn't even react until he had already gathered her up in his arms. By the time she could protest, he had already laid her out in her bed.

"It's okay," he said. "I get it."

She still groaned and covered her face with her hands. He resisted the urge to stroke her head and got to work handing her the medicine. Once she had managed to swallow it all, he gave her the oyster crackers and explained the importance of keeping something on her stomach.

As he moved to leave, her hand caught his sleeve, her other hand firmly around her pet squirrel, who seemed resigned to his fate.

"What happened today?" she asked.

He sat back down on the side of her bed. "Some days just get to me more than others. There's this virus going around that causes blisters on babies and toddlers feet, hands, and mouth, and I had a very young baby come in with it." He gave her a smile, hoping to cover up how much of a pathetic, bleeding heart he was. He had chosen this job, after all. "It just upset me a little how miserable he was and that I couldn't fix it right away."

She sniffed, winced. He pulled her a tissue from the box on her headboard.

"Thanks." She put it to her nose, but didn't blow. He understood. "You know, there's a reason one of the most commonly used things in horror games are baby cries."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "So you don't stop at zombies?"

She waved a hand at him. "Point is, that much vulnerability and need scares people because of what it's doing to you. It hurts. The fact you don't run from it, but towards it, and every day even, says a lot about the strength of your heart. I wouldn't call it bleeding at all." Her eyes crinkled from a smile hidden by wads of tissue. "You have the strongest heart I've ever known. I wish I could be that strong."

Heat flared up his neck. Avoiding her gaze, he looked to the side, flustered.

"You…always make one sound better than they are," he murmured.

"I'm just telling the truth. I'm not the only one who thinks that. All your brothers look up to you and depend on you to keep them safe. You're their home, Masaomi."

He ducked his head aside, hotter than ever, hoping to cover his shame as Chiyaki, Fuuto, his father, and all the others he had ever punished cropped up into his head.

"Thank you, Ema, really. But I'm not as great as you think." He shifted his feet nervously and ran a hand through his hair. "There's a reason I'm still single at my age." And afraid he might say something he'd regret, he stood up. "I'll get you some yogurt or something."

"Masaomi."

Her poor, sickly voice stopped him half way to the door.

"Are the babies really all that's going on? What's wrong?"

He turned to give her that smile. The one he gave everyone.

"Nothing. Everything's fine."

 **Author's Note: And with that, you've caught up to where I am in my writing. I have nothing in my backlog. See, I tend to write in big spurts of thousands of words a time. It's how I can be working on multiple stories at a time. But lately I've been sick myself and other schmuck, so I don't have my usual buttload, so my daily updates are gonna have to slow down. Don't worry. At the very least you'll get one chapter per week, same with all my other stories. I think it's the epitome of discomfort to have to wait on a story, you see. It's why I almost never read uncompleted stories on fanfic. So never fear. You are in good hands. *salute***

 **In the meantime, let me know what you think. ^.^ Your thoughts are my bread and butter and fill my tummy full of fuzzwubs and goodness.**


	13. Penitence

13

A week passed. Ema got better. His hours got worse. The baby he had to admit with hand, mouth, and foot ended up worsening before he got better, but Masaomi was there to hold him as his mother slept in a nearby bed. He knew that part of the reason she could sleep at all was because the doctor himself held her child. Happily, two days later, he was able to release the babe to recover at home.

On Wednesday they returned for a checkup. As he tickled the baby's stomach to get his mouth open so he could see how the sores were healing up in there, Dani knocked on the door.

"Doctor, your sister's at the front desk for you. She's in a fit state."

His nerves prickled. Ema had never come to his office before when she had needed something. She always called, just like the rest of the brothers. What could be wrong that she felt she had to come here herself?

Once he finished the check up, he checked his phone. There were three missed calls. Usually he kept it on silent when with patients, but he hadn't felt any vibrations.

When he saw her, Dani was still hovering nearby with a drink of water, which Ema didn't so much as twitch to touch. At the sight of her trembling frame and wide, bright eyes, he all but ran the rest of the way to her.

"Ema, what happened?"

"He's…" she stopped and shot an uneasy glance at Dani, who put the cup of water down on the counter.

"I'll give you some privacy." She turned back to work well enough, but Masaomi suspected she did so reluctantly. He also hadn't missed that crook to her eyebrows when she had looked between Ema and him, as though something just made sense to her.

Masaomi gestured to an empty exam room and they went in. He closed the door behind him, hoping she didn't think much on the cartoon paintings on the walls and dangling toy birds.

"He's coming to kill you," she blurted out.

His hands went cold. "Who?"

"Kaname's friend, the one I…" she bit her lip. Her hands clenched so hard on her ruffled skirt that her knuckles showed white. "Masaomi…did you really shave him and ruin his reputation at the temple?"

He opened his mouth to ask how she knew that, then realized it didn't matter. All he could do with that information is try to lie, and he had no intention to do that to her, no matter how it made his gut twist.

"Yes," he said. "But what makes you think he's going to kill me?"

"He left a voicemail on my phone. Said he—said he was going to kill one of my brothers, a-a-and after-after hearing from Kaname last night that Chi had been kicked out dishonorably and that he suspected it might be you—" her breathing hitched and, suddenly, her face screwed up against watering hysteria. "What if I got it wrong? What if he's after Kaname? Masaomi, his voice, it was—I don't—"

He went on auto pilot, rushing to stroke her arms and hush to her like he would a terrified child. It was all he knew. He just stopped himself from pulling a toy out of his pocket. But even if he did know better, his rattled insides would have made it impossible for him to think straight.

"And he called me of all people—" she gasped. "This has got to be my fault, you—you must have heard about what he did—it's my fault, I shouldn't have gone to that stupid club, what if he's—"

A knock on the door interrupted her breathless tirade. Frowning, Masaomi went to the door to see Dani again, looking far to disinterested to be real.

"There's a young fellow up front saying it's urgent he get a word with you," she said.

"One of my brothers?"

She shook her head. "Doesn't have the look, and he's not the adopted one either. Told me to give you this."

She handed a sealed envelope through the door.

Masaomi took it as coolly as possible.

"Thank you."

"And you have a patient waiting in room five." With that she turned and trotted off, albeit slowly.

He close the door and tore through the envelop, cutting his finger in the process. The words bled against his eyes as the red from his cut dyed the paper.

 _Come to me quietly. If I get hint of a ruckus or cops, I have a bomb._

"What does it say?" she whispered.

Masaomi tucked the letter with its envelope into his pocket, but not before Ema saw the stain. Without a word she went to the cupboards and, luckily, found a box of band aids on her first try. Yet her white hands hook so hard she dropped the box into the sink. He came over to help as he spoke.

"Nothing you need to worry about." His voice came out perfectly calm, as he had to use whenever a child's sickness scared even him and no one could know. He peeled out a band aid, but she took it from him without asking.

"Then I probably shouldn't know," she said, softly, though her tone still came out peaked and vibrating with terror. "Just tell me what to do."

He felt a wave of awe. She was terrified, yet instead of demanding and becoming more hysteric or even angry as he had seen most people get when afraid, she trusted him, quickly dried her face, and straightened with a cool determination he'd never seen before, waiting on his instructions.

In that moment, he knew he had found someone to depend on.

But she didn't need to be here.

"I need you to call one of our brothers for a ride. Tell them to come out to the east side of the hospital, to the outside wall of my office where the fire exit is."

"Won't the alarm go off if you use it?"

He gave her a tight smile. "It doubles as a back entrance." And covered by back bushes and trees so the idiot in the office wouldn't know about it. "Don't leave it until you know they're outside."

She nodded, then visibly hesitated, as though wanting to say more.

He turned and opened the door.

"Masaomi…"

He glanced back at her, and couldn't help the wave of sadness at her wane, pale form.

"I'm so sorry to have done this to you," he said.

Before she could response, he had Dani (who hadn't gone far at all) and Kyoi before him and had started his instructions in a low murmur.

"Keep what I'm about to tell you absolutely quiet. You can't even let it show, you have to behave as though nothing is wrong."

His head hen and her second in command stiffened and met his eye with resolute soberness, as he knew they would. Still, he couldn't imagine appreciating the day he hired them more than he did then.

Besides him, Ema listened, her hands still tightly fisted into her skirt.

Once he gave them instructions, he dismissed them, and put an arm around her shoulder. Her wired, taunt muscles against his bicep made his chest constrict.

"Ema…" he swallowed the urge to murmur the softest of endearments. "It isn't your fault. It is only mine. I should have controlled myself better. I have not been on my best the last month or so, and I am so, so sorry."

Her ponytail swept along his bare forearm as she turned her head, as though to look up at him, but found that awkward while they walked so close. But she didn't say anything, which was perhaps best.

At the door he quickly let go of her and gave her his best, professional default smile.

"Now please, do as big brother says and stay here," he raised his pinky finger to her, hoping his words came out humorous rather than the weepy he heard his head. "Please?"

She wavered as he knew she would. Above everything else, she wanted a family, and his brothers had gotten away with figurative murder by pulling out the 'big brother' card on her.

Even so, he still felt relief when that little smile curved her lips and she curved her own pinky around his, tight as a new spring vine.

"Then promise me you won't get hurt."

Something inside him trembled and died the moment it was born. It had been a ridiculous pleasure anyways. Of course she wouldn't want him hurt.

"That is the plan."

"Promise." Her pinky clenched tighter.

"Promise." And resisting the urge to kiss their entwined fingers, he pulled apart. "Best you try on a smile. Best we not make the others going through this door nervous, yeah?"

She nodded and her smile widened, though it didn't touch her eyes.

"Yes'm, Doctor!"

With that, he spun on his heel and marched through the hallways. His medical assistants passed him with children and mothers and one father at their hands. They all smiled, and the children seemed to find it no different than moving from the waiting room. One of the mothers did look uncertain, though. He patted her on the shoulder, willing reassurance through to her, and hoped seeing him walk in the opposite direction would give her some kind of reassurance. Only once he was certain everyone who was inside had gone out the door did he continue on.

Up beyond the separating counter in the office space, Kyoi and Dani sat in their chairs typing away, both on the phones canceling appointments for the next two hours. He took the clipboard from off the partition and clicked it on the counter. Both girls turned. Then, in answer to the silent question in his eyes, Dani lifted up a note card that said "Stools in place." He nodded, ignoring how dry his mouth had become.

He stepped behind the wall next to the door, so that anyone who came up to the sliding glass window wouldn't see him. Kyoi checked to see if Masaomi was in place so that it wouldn't look to obvious when Dani opened the window and called up Chiyaki.

All too soon, he heard the hiss of the glass window sliding open.

"Sir, if you'd come and fill out a form."

As Masaomi slid to the door, he heard Chiyaki's voice answer.

"I'm not a patient. I just need to see him."

"I got that, but its procedure. Don't look at me like that, I didn't decide what was what, I just work here."

Of course Dani wouldn't balk from talking to him like her idiot son. Guy could probably have a freaking gun pointing at her face and she'd probably still hand out to sass. Masaomi may have to consider changing his mental image of her as a chicken.

Only once he heard Chiyaki come to the window did he open the door. The oiled hinges opened silently (the janitor happened to be an OCD war vet, so he was on top of things like that, THANK GOD). He rolled his feet, eyes instantly flying to the set of barstools one of the girls had replaced two of the waiting room chairs with. The pen used to fill out the board had one of those dainty chains used to keep them to the counter and out of thieves reach. And since Dina was careful to hide her usual mug of free pens so patients could sit down to fill them out, Chi would be kept at the desk, his gaze to the board.

And hopefully he didn't see the waiting room door open out of the corner of his eye.

Heart hammering cold ice past his ears, Masaomi reached the stools in two long strides and thank his mother for his long legs.

"This is stupid," he heard him say.

"Then you should have called ahead," said Dani with a haughty sniff. "Since you're not family, you have to fill out the form so we can put you up in the order of importance."

His sweating hands grasped the legs of a stool.

"But you're not even busy. No one is in here."

Breath held, he crossed the distance to him. The man's head had been touched up since Masaomi barber skills had graced it, and the baldness had an oiled, reflective sheen to it without any random spurts of gray fuzz.

"But there are people in with him—"

With every ounce of his strength, he brought the stool across to the back of the pretty bald skull. At the last nano-second, Chi turned. The seat of the stool chunked with the back-side of his head, the legs to his temple, and a loud crack burst his eardrums. The girls screamed.

Chi crumpled.

Masaomi raised the barstool, eyes jumping for any sign of movement. He waited for what felt like an hour, readying for another head bash, but only a few seconds by the tick of the clock in the quiet.

Then he snapped into motion, pawing through the man's crisp, casual suit jacket. He pulled out wallets, chains, then tore open the shirt, searching for anything out of the ordinary. Then the pants and shoes, not bothering with the man's privacy.

But besides the black handgun lying besides his hand, Chi had no other weapons or bombs on him.

"Dani," he barked.

"Police should be here in five minutes," said Kyoi.

Dani appeared in the window, throwing out a rolled tape measure, which Masaomi caught and proceeded to tie up Chi's hands behind him in quick, practiced tugs. Yes, he had practice in tying up people. Best not to dwell on that thought, or the fact that he had essentially broken his hypocratic oath to do no one harm—physically, that is, as he told his monster of a conscience.

Only on standing did he register the sharp pain on the outside of his left thigh. The surprise more than the pain made him stagger into the counter. Kyoi squeaked in alarm, but not Dani. In an almost superhuman flash she was out in the waiting room, fat arms around his and hefting him into a chair.

"Stay." Yep. He had become the sassy hen in her coop who needed to be taught a lesson.

But wasn't he hurt? Why was he in trouble?

Confused, he looked down to see the dark red staining through his gray slacks on the left side of his thigh. A bit of blood shone against the yellow pine of the chair's armrest where his leg had brushed against it.

Well...crap. How was he going to make up to Ema for breaking his promise?

 **Author's Note: Next chapter is the last. It was nice knowing you.**


	14. Perception

14

Turns out, Masaomi had been a bit too efficient. By the time Dani had finished stitching him up, the cops had just arrived and he headed outside in hopes that a breath of fresh air would help his hands stop shaking. Several people stared at his bloodied leg, and he wondered if he should give up on doing anything else today besides going home. Even if the bullet had just grazed him, it hurt like a mama. He really was a wuss.

Ema sighted him before he had a chance to hide. Still, the way she cried out his name made him melt.

 _Ugh. I'm so whipped._

"You told me you wouldn't get hurt! Oh, god, sit down, you shouldn't be walking! Where's a doctor—"

He put his hands on her shoulders. "Calm down, it's just a scratch and I've already taken care of it. See? Bandages and everything."

"Only a scratch?" Kaname appeared at her side, scowling. The family's second car had been parked nearby. "That's a whole lot of blood for only a scratch."

"Flesh wounds can do that. But really, I'm fine."

"You were limping," said Ema, a hint of rare anger at the edge of her voice.

He thought about mentioning how he had done his best against a guy with a gun and possibly a bomb, but that sound whiney even in his head. Besides, it was his fault that Chika ended up there to begin with.

At that thought, his chest heated with shame and he drew back far enough to bow to her.

"Please accept my deepest apologies, Ema. I broke my promise to you and it is entirely my fault that all of this happened. I am so sorry."

And yet, what he truly regretted was not being a smarter. A better protector would have put a stop to Chiaki without any fallback on his family whatsoever. But he had forgotten, even if for a moment, that protecting his family involved protecting himself too.

Kaname slapped a hand to his head and pushed him upright. The unexpected movement drew a painful hiss from Masaomi.

"Enough of that," he growled. "Where's Chiaki?"

A flash of alarm ran through Masaomi. "I didn't kill him—" Hopefully.

"You should have, because now I'm gonna have to. He's a homicidal lunatic," his eyes flashed. "And I'm sorry, big bro, but I'm not as non-violent as you with my punishments."

Masaomi looked away, neck hot.

And still…he could not apologize for having done something about Chiaki. It was his job to protect his family. He could only apologize for not being smart enough.

"Cough it out, where is he?!"

"Kaname, stop, calm down—" started Ema.

"Stay out of this. Masaomi?"

"The police are dealing with him," he said softly, and because he felt some sort of need to report. "He's probably still unconscious."

"What? Did you bomb him with laughing gas or something?"

"I…hit him in the head with a bar stool."

Kaname's flabbergasted stare raised the heat from Masaomi's neck to his face. When an evil, very Hikaru like smirk spread across his brother's face, Masaomi ducked his head. For some reason, having approval for it didn't help him feel better.

"So you can throw a punch when you need to," he said.

"Of course I can." And because he didn't care anymore if Kaname made a fool of himself fighting against the police to get at Chiaki. "They should be coming out the front with him, if you hurry."

"Don't mind if I do. I've got to see this."

And with that, the blond monk set off at a jog around the corner of the building.

Leaving Masaomi and all his shame alone with Ema.

He thought about following to give his report to the police. He thought about walking to his car and driving away. He thought about going back into his office and hiding in an exam room. Anything but standing out here in front of Ema with his pant leg torn and stained with blood.

"Masaomi," she started, and he inwardly clenched with dread. "I…I don't think you did anything wrong. I don't mean with what you handled Chiaki's bomb threat—though granted, that was…really cool how you just…" Her voice tinged with something that made him look up involuntarily, stomach jumping up like a balloon. She had a knuckle to her bottom lip and a look he couldn't read.

She shook it off the moment he saw it, however, and continued. "Getting him kicked out of the temple was the right thing to do. He could have been hurting other girls, and if you really did shave his head, I think that's brilliant. His looks were how he was luring them in, and hair grows back."

"That's not what I'm sorry for. I'm sorry I wasn't clever enough. If I had done it right, he would not have had anything in which to justify himself coming here and threatening me, threatening you."

She cocked her head at him in a way that made the sun dance on her ponytail. "So you…don't regret circumcising Fuuto either?"

His face caught on fire.

"Uh…so…um…"

She didn't smile. Nor did she look disapproving. She just looked at him, waiting.

He put a hand to his face.

"No. He had an STD."

She made a little noise halfway through a squeak of surprise and disgust.

"But…I thought circumcision helping to prevent infections was just a myth?"

At this, he couldn't help the rebellious little smirk curving his mouth. It hurt with how hard he fought against it, but he had to settle with moving his hand down from his eyes to hide it.

"It is."

He couldn't look at her. The cat was out of the bag. But, more than that, he felt confused, because while he didn't regret doing what he did, he felt ashamed that Ema had come to find out about it. Was it perhaps because he knew that she would feel guilty for any harm or conflict that came because of her, even if it had nothing to do with her? She tended to do that. A lot. Or was it because he wanted to her to see him as ever gentle, no matter what? Or was he afraid that she'd come to show him the fearful respect that Fuuto now did?

Perhaps it was all of that.

"Thank you."

His gaze flew up from where it had been on the grass to stare at her.

To see her giving him a tender, gentle thing of a smile, one that softened her eyes and instantly gutted him of every organ in his body.

His next surprise came when she blushed and looked away herself.

"I know how…tender your heart is," she said. "Please, don't worry that I'll think badly of you. I know that you take your job as the eldest brother seriously and that you're only trying to protect us the best way you know how. Personally, I think you handled it better than a lot of our brother's would. I had to stop Yusuke from attacking Chiaki then and there in front of everyone, and he would have been charged with assault and battery and Chiaki wouldn't have been any worse for wear. He'd just go on with his life and nothing would get done." A thought hit her and she suddenly looked alarmed. "Not that I'm saying I want you to go around punishing people just because they offended me or something, that's ridiculous! And I still wish it hadn't come to this…" She wilted. "I can't help but feel like this is my fault. That you getting hurt…"

He had expected this. Still, it didn't help the frustration and aching need to fix that welled up in him and moved him forward. He stopped himself from touching her, but he still stood close enough to be in danger of doing so.

"No. No stop, sweetling. There is nothing for you to feel guilty for. To think so is silly, please don't. You'll hurt your poor brothers by thinking so."

She finally met his eyes, and with a smile, though not that tender, heart-crushing one he had seen earlier. For that, he was glad. He didn't want to know the kinds of things she could make him do just by smiling at him like that.

"Sweetling?"

It took him a moment to realize he had said that. And when he did, his face caught on fire again and he backed up, covering it.

She laughed. "For a man who professes to be so old, you can act awfully cute."

"Old men can be cute…" I guess?

"Hate to break this to you, but you aren't old. Unless…do you want to be?"

Her brows crunched with a sort of painful anxiety he didn't understand. He debated for a split second between asking why and the truth.

He ended up settling for his own truth, as the unknown of hers scared him, though it came out quietly. "I want more than anything to be half my age."

The anxiety flashed away. "Is that why you work with kids?"

"No. I just like kids."

"Then…why do you feel old? Sorry to ask, but it seems like it really bothers you. And has for a while."

Crap, of course she would have noticed that.

For a thrilling and horrifying space of time, he considered telling her. He knew already from Hikaru and Ukyo that several of his brothers had already been daring enough. Maybe her anxiety was because she was afraid he thought her too young for him. Maybe that cry of concern had been more than for an older brother. Maybe…

Then he came to his senses.

"Thirty-four, I'm practically middle-aged." He gave her his default smile. "At this rate, by the time I get around to having kids myself, I'll be in a retirement home when they hit puberty. The horror!"

She frowned. "Why aren't you married, Masaomi?"

Both of them blanched.

"I'm sorry!" she squeaked. "That was so rude of me to ask! Forget I said anything, I just—I just can't figure out why you're not, I mean, you are plenty handsome and really sweet and good with kids, I can't see why—"

"It's because he's gay."

Kaname's arm appeared around his shoulders.

Masaomi's fury flashed so hot and quick, he hadn't even the time to register it before he snarled and twisted on Kaname.

"I am not, nor am I in the mood for your teasing!"

Ema's and Kaname's jaws dropped. Masaomi backed down, but too late.

"Sorry, I…" Augh, screw it. "I better go fill the cops in on what happened."

And with that, he pivoted on the spot and walked away.

 **Author's note: Okay, I lied. Or rather, the story lied to me. I was hoping to be all clever and have 14 chapters for the 14 Asahina siblings, but you know what? That didn't happen. I got two more chapters until the end.**

 **Random bit of trivia, I hate the song Amazing Grace. Don't get me wrong, I freaking love Jesus. But that song is so over done in so many ways that it just grates on me.**


	15. Plastered

15

Masaomi slumped against the sofa, head slung back, wondering how the ceiling had gotten so interesting. Ema had called him a roof before. With how interesting it was, he actually felt flattered. He'd been flattered before, right? Why hadn't they ever painted some flowers up there? Square roofs were so fine.

"Good Lord, what have you done to him?" Ukyo. Ukyo was nice. And stupid enough for his own good. Not too smart like Hikaru. Damn Hikaru.

"Something I hope will be for his own good…or my own good."

"That's not right, Hikaru."

"Hey, I'm considering it a gift to our wonderful big bro for being so boss today. You saw his interview on the news, right?"

"Yes. He should leave the screen time to Fuuto."

Masaomi's comprehension snapped in at the last sentence and he flung an arm up to point at the ceiling dramatically. "I did fine, jerks. Pro. I a pro." He hadn't stuttered at all or anything…wait…had he? Why was he pointing at the ceiling? Oh yeah. "We need flowers."

"…How much did you give him?"

"He's still conscious, isn't he?"

"Flowers," said Masaomi all too seriously. His arm felt good like this. Hanging up. His bicep was getting all tingly. Hee. "Big blinky ones. Bam. That would make it extra." The ceiling. Up there.

"Do you even know the last time he actually got drunk? Has he ever gotten drunk?"

"Not nearly as often as you, I dare say, but don't you remember that camping trip near that mosquito infested hell?"

"Crap, yeah. We need to get him out of here before they find him."

"You mean, before Ema finds him." Hikaru had that smirk to his voice that made Masaomi drop his arm and tilt his head back up to narrow his eyes at the okami.

"What's so funny?" he asked.

"You're so funny," chirped Hikaru.

"Stop making your voice squeaky, you make a creepy girl."

Hikaru's eyebrow twitched. "Would you like to see Ema?"

Masaomi straightened with a thrill of please-ness, then melted into the sofa with a happy little sigh and a big goopy smile that felt about as good as leaving his arm pointing at the ceiling.

"No," said Ukyo. "No. No. HELL no. You are not throwing one of our drunk brothers at Ema, are you crazy?!"

"This is Masaomi, dude. The worst he'll do is hug her leg and cry with happiness. Trust me on this. I know my drunks."

"I'm still missing how this is a present."

"Because he needs the push, obviously. Otherwise, he really is going to die a virgin."

Masaomi, still warm and fuzzy with Ema thoughts, couldn't help but do a little squirm at the word virgin. Ema was so cute. She had such a cute bum. All round and bubbly and girly and nice boobs—pillows! Good for babies. And licking.

"And you take that creepy giggling as a good sign? No. I'm taking him to his room."

Masaomi hadn't realized his arms had started wiggling till Ukyo's grabbing them forced him still.

"No! I'll be good!" Masaomi crooned. "No butts!"

Hikaru burst out laughing.

"L-leave him," he gasped through his mirth. "Please, I'll even—ha ha—watch from a distance, I swear!"

"This isn't good for him at all!"

"Oh, shut up, you know he's worse than Yusuke when it comes to self-esteem and more uptight than even you. You're just afraid it might work too well with Ema…"

Ukyo snorted. "Please. Drunks do not a romance make."

"On the contrary, it happens all the time." Hikaru suddenly quieted.

Masaomi wrinkled his nose when the drag-dressed man abruptly slapped Ukyo's grip away. That wasn't very nice.

"That's her, move!" he hissed.

"Wha—"

Hikaru raised his voice. "Ema, darling, is that you!"

The sound of her name made him all fuzzy and melty again, and he sort of phased out of what happened next, too caught up in happy thoughts of her. Cute, slightly curly hair. Big brown eyes. You could make country songs off those eyes. Cute butt.

"….that's right, and I sort of drugged Masaomi's drink as a prank. Could you watch over him?"

"If it's your fault, shouldn't you take care of him? That was mean to do that."

Masaomi perked. "Ema?" He knew that voice.

Yes, there she was. In little shorts with lace around the hems and one of her flouncy, loose fitting blouses that still flattered her figure. A purple one? He liked pink better. Pink made her all girly and he liked how girly she was.

Ema frowned. "Uh…I only caught half of that. Pink?"

"Like I said, we'll be really quick. We're just grabbing the usual, you know, hang over stuff. I promise he's absolutely harmless. If anything, he'll just act really silly and weepy—in a happy way. He's kind of a happy drunk."

"I'm not drunk," said Masaomi seriously. "I don't drink."

"Which is why I had to spike your drink, dear brother!" Hikaru flashed him a wide grin. "Now, enjoy having a fun time like a mortal for once while I get you some medicine, kay?"

"And no molesting Ema," said Ukyo all too darkly.

Masaomi gaped at him, affronted. "Excuse me? How are ceiling flowers perverted?"

"Why isn't it funny that that's the only thing that's made sense?" Ukyo pinched his nose.

They jabbered something fast he couldn't catch—why was everyone moving so fast? Then Hikaru hooked onto Ukyo's arm and wheeled out of the living room and up the stairs, leaving him with a rather baffled and adorable Ema.

He gave her a goopy smile.

"Ema!"

She returned the smile, albeit uneasily. "Yes?"

"Ema!"

"That's me."

"I sure love you. You're so girly and nice."

She flushed. So pink! Pink girly!

"Holy crow, they really did a number on you, did they?" she asked.

He didn't really get why she sounded like she pitied him when he felt so happy. He wanted to hug her—but no, that would be bad. No molesting. But her knee wouldn't be so bad, right? Maybe a right toe. He could hug her toes, right?

"Just what exactly were they wanting me to do?" Ema said to herself, fidgeting. "Do you feel like you're going to throw up? Should I get a bowl?"

He frowned. What a ridiculous thing to say. "Better? I'm not sick, I'm a horse!"

Her lips twitched, and he reached out to poke them and sort of missed and ended up poking her cheek instead. That made him frown. He wanted to feel her lips. But her cheek was soft too.

"That was dumb," he said, mostly to himself.

"Oh, dear," but at least she was smiling now instead of looking uncertain. "You really are loopy. That really was rude of them, and to leave you out here for everyone to see. How bout we take you back to your room?"

Masaomi thought about that. And thought. And thought.

When had he fallen over? And on Ema's shoulder? Ooo, shoulder. Soft hair. She smelled nice. Her skin was sort of pink, pink was girly!

"Come on, work with me here. Arm over, and up…" He was standing, but the floor felt a little wobbly. Really, those earthquakes should stop. "Gal, you're huge. Or maybe I'm small? Okay, here we go."

Wait, she was under his arm? Pressed against his side? Ooo, yay. Such a sweet, sweet Ema. So nice. Now if only his thigh didn't hurt so much. Isn't that why he had sat down in the first place? His whole leg had been flaming with it. Pain. Hikaru had given him something for it…

"Masaomi, I can't carry you."

But he'd love to carry her. Cradle her in his arms. Hold her close.

The world did that fast whippy thing and fell out under him, but his bed caught him, and sitting up, nonetheless.

"Take that, carpet," he told the floor, which he knew had been trying to lure him down. "I'm not drunk. Ha!"

Ema laughed, drawing his attention.

Ema…in his room.

Warm fuzzies attacked him again and he melted again—literally onto the floor. She gave a cry of alarm, but she needn't have worried. He caught himself against her legs. One up on that evil carpet once more!

He made a happy chirp and hugged her leg, nuzzling her soft knee. When her leg shifted in his grasp, he whined, but she only went around to sit on his bed and he had to adjust only a little to reclaim his soft, girly Ema leg.

And feeling her skin against his cheek, her warmth, and his head swimming with her scent, it hit him with a joy he couldn't contain. So great and explosive was his joy that it hurt, and he started to blubber with tears. He thought she said something, but he didn't really hear over his own sniffing and happiness. Oh, he just wanted to stay like this. He didn't care what part of her he held, even if it was a toe. He just wanted this. He wanted her.

"So wonderful," he murmured. "Mmmm, yay. Ema leg. I love this leg."

"I'm starting to think they gave you something other than alcohol."

Whatever that meant, he didn't know, as he fell asleep.

 **Author's Note: Aw man, guys. I feel like crap. *slumps on bed* uuuurrrgh. Trying to wean yourself off of anxiety meds like these makes you feel so sick. If I die, know I at least finished this story before I did so.**


	16. Prostitute

16

He woke in his bedroom only remembering Hikaru giving him a drink and that painting flowers on the ceiling in a home filled with men was a horrid idea. And something about Ema.

Crud…Ema had seen him like that?

Despite his pounding headache, he marched with the intention of the devil for souls towards Hikaru's bedroom door. He had to stop along the way to throw up in his toilet so hard he thought his socks would come out, but he made it and pounded the bastard's door in time with his head.

"Not cool, Hikaru," he growled into the door, not bothering to cover how awful he felt.

He nearly fell in when Hikaru opened the door, looking sleepy and more male than ever with a night's growth of facial hair. The okami didn't even give his usual smirk. He just pushed a plastic bag into Masaomi's chest with enough force to push him out of his doorway and closed the door. Masaomi moved to kick it with all his strength, but had to stop himself due to a dizzy spell. Instead, he took a look in the bag to see the usual cures for a bad hangover.

He had to stop at his bathroom to throw up again (why the HELL do people get drunk?), but made it to the kitchen feeling at least a little better now that he got that out of his system. Ugh, and the pain just combined with his wounded thigh to make his world a swirling vortex of discomfort.

Ukyo was in the middle of preparing breakfast when he staggered in.

"You look happy," he said dryly.

Masaomi glared, suddenly remembering that he had been there too. But since Ukyo hadn't helped Hikaru give him the drink, he let his punishment slide.

Before he could reach the coffee machine, Ukyo handed him a steaming cup of it, made just the way he liked it.

"I'll make you some toast," he said, in a tone that said he was sorry he couldn't do more. "Don't worry, if I make anything for Hikaru it will be laden with laxatives."

He grunted and took the coffee.

It wasn't until he took the first bite of the toast Ukyo brought him that he realized he had to work today too. That made him groan and drop his face into the table.

"What's up with big bro?" asked Wataru, who had just walked in.

"Hikaru was a jerk and did something to ruin his sleep."

No need to tell the youngest he had a hangover for no good reason. Though the kid was 13, so he would have been able to handle it, wouldn't? Oh screw it. Whatever.

He finished his toast. Threw back some pain pills. Got some more coffee. Headed up for a hot shower. Got out to call in and say his leg was being a beast and he'd have to come in tomorrow, just to be told by Dani that she didn't expect him until Monday next week anyways. Fall on his bed. Go to sleep.

Dream of Ema, dressed in a sheer, pink summer dress that showed the pattern and lines of her bikini underneath. Behind her the sun reflected off the beach sand and water till he could hardly see her through the light. It hurt his eyes. But it was a good thing. He wasn't supposed to look at her like that anyways, old man that he was. Creep.

Still, blinded as he was, he reached out and scooped her into his arms. He could feel her, couldn't he? Hugs weren't bad. And he'd hold whatever part of her she allowed, even if it was just her toes.

A soft knock woke him. Happy to find his headache considerably better and his appetite back, he went to the door.

To find Ema, holding a tray as though summoned there by his dream.

Inwardly, he groaned. She had seen him…

"I brought lunch." She gestured her chin to the tray.

Something in the way she held her shoulders gave Masaomi the impression she was uncomfortable with something.

Dread filled his gut. "Did I do something last night?"

Her shoulders hunched higher. "No! Nothing bad." Her lips twitched, even as pink crossed her nose. "You were just silly, that's all."

He breathed a sigh of relief and gave her a weak smile as he opened up the door. "My room is clean, if you want to come in. You look like you have enough food there for two."

And she did.

The pink spread, but to his delight, she took the invitation and walked in. He closed the door behind her and she set the tray carefully on the night stand. He pulled over the chair from his desk for her to sit on.

"To what do I owe this pleasure?" he asked. "Meal in bed and your company."

Her shoulders were to her ears now and she wouldn't meet his eye. "Can't I have a meal with my brother? Besides, I feel really bad for what Hikaru did and I've been worried about you. Ukyo told me you don't drink, like, at all."

"Not since college." He took up a triangle of sandwich, content and happy. "And even then not much. I just never saw the appeal."

"I can agree with you there. Who wants to embarrass themselves and not remember things and then deal with hangovers?"

As he chewed, he took a closer look at her tense posture and her avid attention to the wood grain of his night stand.

Frowning, he swallowed. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, really. I'm sorry, am I giving that vibe?"

Now even her voice had started to squeak.

He put down his sandwich. "Ema…did one of our brothers do something?" _Did I?_

She hesitated, and that turned whatever contentment he had from this pleasant meal to apprehension. Having a meal together with one of her brother's in their room wasn't exactly common, after all.

After fidgeting her fingers in-between one another, she finally glanced up at him.

"Masaomi…please don't take this in a weird way, I just…" another hesitation, which did nothing for his nerves.

Then her eyes abruptly brightened with tears.

"Masaomi…how do I stop them from…from being in love with me? Or at least to stop trying. I don't…" she looked away and ducked her head down. "I just want a family. I just want brothers."

A crushing ache, as though his heart had been kicked off a cliff, twisted his chest.

Why, though? He already knew this was how she felt.

He put the sandwich down to appear serious, though in reality it was because he had suddenly lost his appetite.

"I'm sorry, Emma, I don't…I'm not the best person for romantic advice. But I can say you can't control other people's feelings. Most of the suffering in the world comes from the choices and actions of other people."

She wagged her head. "I know, I just…you seem so on top of it, so smart and in control. I thought if anyone would have a different answer, it would be you."

"Different? Who else have you asked?"

"Well, I didn't ask. Hikaru just sort of threw it at me, saying in order for it to stop I had to choose one. Or, wait…maybe it was just implied by everyone that I had to choose someone." She reached out to fiddle with a little toy dragon sitting on the stand of his lamp. The side of her mouth he could see curved a little.

"Don't take what believe Hikaru says all the time," he said with more than a little chagrin. "He thinks he knows everything, but he tends to miss the key points while getting all the extras. I'm sure our brothers will get the hint eventually and move on." He did a mental double take. "Or, at least some of them." Not as many as he had implied, actually.

"Like who?" she asked, having brought the dragon to her lap to tap at its nose with her fingertip.

"I don't really think that would be fair of me to say. They'd just be speculations on my part, and the only ones who know the depth of their feelings is them."

When she didn't say anything to that, he scanned her, careful to make sure the shocking hurt her words had given him had all its locks on. She didn't need to know about those. Ever.

She looked scared.

"Emma," he scooted forward to lean onto his knees and peak under her bowed head. "Are you afraid of what they'll do?"

She flinched. "No! I don't think they'd ever do anything to hurt me…" Still, her voice trailed away and her fingers had clenched about the little dragon.

He waited, resisting the urge to reach out.

Finally, she gave a little sigh. "I…I hate myself for this. For what I've done to you guys. For how I feel. It's gross."

He hadn't been expecting that. "Gross?"

She ducked her head, if possible, even lower, till she was nearly folded over herself. Her ears had gone pink.

"When Tsubaki or Azusa kiss me or hug me, when Fuuto d-d-did what he did, or when…when they do stuff like that, yeah, it scares me a little, but I…I don't exactly hate it until afterwards, because of how it makes me feel—who it makes me feel like. I…I'm so disgusting. It's like what Fuki said, I really am a whore."

Shock came before his monster whipped up with a flaming roar, searing away all of the ache in his chest for the insignificant annoyance it was.

"Fuki?" he asked, voice calm.

"She's just a friend, but I've told her about what happens here and she says…she says I'm like some horny virgin dating game player, and that I…I don't slap them or tell them off because I secretly like all the physical attention and want…" her voice cracked and she slapped her hands to her face. The toy dragon rolled to the floor.

The next words out of her came as a keening wail.

"I'm disgusting!"

The dragon of his rage took a back seat as he reached out to her. She flinched back when his hands touched her face.

"Don't!"

"Ema, you're _not_ a whore. Not in the least."

"But I-I-I think the kisses and the hugs feel nice and I—I got all—and after Fuuto left I…" she sucked in her breath so fast, it sounded like it hurt, and she crunched over farther.

"Kisses and hugs are supposed to feel nice. You're not bad just because you like it."

"But I don't like it, because it makes me feel like—like that! Like what Fuki says, because I…" she groaned and whimpered his name.

Hands fluttering over her helplessly, he looked to the door, the thought of his brothers innocently going on with their lives outside sending his beast into a roiling fury. It took everything he had to turn back to her and come up with the right words to say.

"This is why it's considered selfish and wrong when a man, or a woman, force physical affection onto someone who hasn't asked for it, Ema. When we illicit those feelings in another person's body it trespasses on them, it disrespects them, and can be used to overpower or manipulate them into doing things they wouldn't naturally want to do. Just because you're body reacts naturally to those advances does not mean you're a whore or anything like unto it." And before he could stop it, his voice dropped. "It just means those horny bastards need to be punished."

She stiffened, and instantly he panicked.

"I'm sorry, that just slipped out." Slipped out indeed. "Just please, understand, Ema, you've done nothing wrong, and your friend doesn't get it. It wasn't right to call you those things either when she was supposed to be supporting you."

When she didn't say anything right away, his panic increased. His heels even started jumping.

"Please, forget about what I said about my brothers, I didn't mean to cuss at you, I'm not cruel or…" Something snapped. "Oh, what the hell. I'm a vindictive jerk, no matter how hard I try." But somehow, admitting that to her, folded over as she was on his office chair, made him feel more sure. "Thank you for telling me this. I promise, as a dear member of my family, I'll do everything to protect you from feeling like this ever again. And before you think it, no, you are not responsible for how I act or what I do in trying to protect you." He set a cautious hand atop her head. "Ema…" he breathed deep. "Sweetling." Oh how that word and the feelings behind it made him hurt. "It's okay. You're okay. You're not gross. Not in the least."

She gave a loud sniff.

Then, to his surprise, she leaned into his hand, insomuch that she turned her head up enough to peek up at him through her bangs and tears.

"You're not a vindictive jerk," she said thickly. "You're the kindest person I know. I don't know anyone I feel safer with." She closed her eyes, sniffing, and pressed the curve of her nose to the underside of his palm. "I know you won't ever hurt me."

Inside, he melted. His thumb gently stroked against her bangs. Her face felt hot and wet.

"That's right. Never on purpose, at least."

They stayed like that longer than he would have dared possible. When she finally sat up, rubbing at the tears on her face with her hands and sniffing, she gave him a shaky little smile.

"Thank you," she said.

"No problem," he gave her a much stronger smile. "Shall we finish these sandwiches and get on with our lives, then?"

"Sounds good to me."

 **Author's Note: Lied again. This isn't the end. I had written an ending but it felt so extremely inconclusive I had to rewrite it and it ended up like this. I'll try to get to work on the next chapter, but I've been really sick lately with anxiety crap. It's hard to write when I feel caved in and wary of everything. The nausea doesn't help either. But I'll be okay. :) And I'll always be writing. Don't worry about that.**

 **I hope you enjoyed this chapter. ^.^ Let me know what you think so far.**


	17. Paparazzi

**Author's Note: For CoffeeArtist, who checked out my blog and told me my stories were awesome and generally making my day.**

17

He decided that punishing his brothers passed trespasses would be unfair. He didn't know where they stood currently and they could have figured it out on their own that what they were doing wasn't exactly making Ema happy. But current trespasses, however, that was definitely war fodder.

Which meant he would need some allies.

He called up Hikaru during his lunch break. The fourth brother didn't sound all the surprised. In fact, he sounded beyond pleased.

"It's about time you asked me to do something like this," he purred. "Unfortunately, I am not paparazzi."

"No, but you're an older brother being asked to look out for his sister against predators." _Are you an unreliable sleezeball?_ Screamed the unasked question.

"Ouch. I don't get how you can say such blunt, manipulative things with that sweet, I'm-just-talking-to-a-scared-little-kid voice. Honestly, it makes you creepier."

"Then you'll keep me informed?"

"I'm not home all the time."

"That's an excuse. You're observant and know how to read the clues. We both know that."

Hikaru gave an explosive sigh that convinced no one. "Fine, fine. I'll be your lackey."

Dani sidestepped around the corner as he hung up. Trepidation eased over his back, prickly and uncomfortable.

"Is your sister okay?" Way too casual.

"Some of my brothers have been bullying her, that's all." The imagined protests of several of his brothers popped up in his head.

"How so?"

He finished chewing his mouthful of leftover stir fry and gave her his practiced smile.

He wanted to tell her it was none of her business, but he liked Dani and knew she was asking as a friend, even if he did suspect ulterior motives. So instead, he said, "Just usual sibling teasing and stuff. She's not use to having siblings so she doesn't know how to handle it, and they don't get that quite yet."

"So you're keeping an eye out for her." She bobbed her head in appraisal, ever reminding him of a chicken. "You're such a good big brother."

"I do my best." He took another huge mouthful of stir fry. Hopefully this would take him more time to chew.

"She seems to trust you a lot, coming straight here."

Yep. Still chewing.

And since Dani was impatient concerning these matters, she grew fidgety and ended up adding, "She's awfully cute too. Doesn't having such a cute stepsister ever cause your brothers problems? I mean, the 'step' isn't exactly a deterrent for, um, wayward affections."

His stir fry had been chewed to mush. He had to swallow now.

"One or two," he said honestly—because Ema _was_ cute, and no one would believe a lie.

"Does she, um, like any of you like that? I mean, as far as I know, none of your brothers are involved with anyone…are they? Oh wait, Ukyo had that girl of his."

She remembered that? And how did she know any of this? Wait, why was he even asking?

"He's not with her anymore." He took another bite. He didn't have much left, having inhaled a good portion of it before he had made his call. A morning of work always made him ravenous.

"So none of your brothers have girlfriends? At their age?" When he didn't answer (chewing), she made a face of wonder. "And none of them are exactly ugly, if I recall. And they're not exactly unsuccessful at what they do either. I mean, two of them are even celebrities, and Ukyo's a lawyer. Didn't you say you had two who were voice actors too?"

She couldn't quite hide the gleam in her eye now, or the eagerness in her voice.

Masaomi swallowed. His hands were sweating.

"Why are you asking?"

"Oh, you can't blame a girl for being interested. Young cute thing thrown into a house of thirteen handsome, single, successful boys—"

"Wataru's only thirteen."

"You know what I mean. And then there's only enough of a relation between the all of you to add a spice of the forbidden, but not enough to get in the way," she actually shivered in delight. "Lord, I've been wondering about that new little sister of yours all this time, but you made it sound as though Ema were just a child."

"She was a child."

Dani flapped her hand at him. "Sixteen is hardly a child anymore, Doctor. You made her sound like she was eight at most. Honestly! Shame on you!"

Neck hot, he got up to rinse his bento box at the sink as quickly as he could. Bits of celery and onion slid across his fingers.

"Speaking of, this girl you said you liked—"

"I really need to be getting back to work," he said, stuffing his still wet bento box into his bag.

"Oh, yes, you are a few minutes over. And here I am yapping when we're behind today."

Even so, he felt her glittering eyes searing his back all the way through the office.


	18. Post-Mortem

18

One of his longtime patients died, followed by a second that died unexpectantly early in the following morning due to complications of the nasty virus that had been going around. With his longtime patients, he had developed a sense for when death was coming, and always stayed the night with them when he felt it. But the second one simply had a compromised immune system and had just got hit too quick. It had come like a punch in the gut to him. No time to prepare.

Due to that, he got home sometime around five in the morning and landed face-first in that brother smelling couch, out cold. He didn't even dream, though the heavy, dank darkness followed him there, dragging every existential dilemma he'd ever had back to the surface.

He awoke a nameless amount of time later on his side with Wataru sitting next to him on the floor, playing some weird RPG robot game that was popular. The familiarity of the sight eased him. Of course, Wataru would be there. Somehow, it was the youngest of all his brothers that had the best awareness of Masaomi's state of being. He always knew when Masaomi had a bad night at the hospital and made it a point to always be there when he woke up. It was one of the reasons Masaomi always kept his door unlocked.

Tired, hungry, bogged down like a man caught in a swamp of mud and moss, he let his hand slip onto Wataru's soft head, soaking in that comfort. It was something he had never grown out of since Wataru had been a baby.

Someone was moving pots in the kitchen. Cleaning dishes, it sounded like. After glancing at him, Wataru called out in their direction.

"Big sis, he's awake."

"Oh! Okay. I'll get the pan on."

Ema. For the first time, he wanted to leave the comfort of Wataru to curl up at her feet. Maybe she'd let him sit in front of the fridge like he had when he was sick while she cleaned and cooked or whatever she was doing. But even if she would have, he couldn't find the will to move.

After a few minutes, Wataru paused his game and lifted a hand to Masaomi's atop his head.

"It's alright, bro. You did your best."

He sighed. It never felt like he had. Wataru knew that. Even now he kept thinking he should have thought of that child when the virus was first introduced to his clinic. It had been such a mean one, even on adults. Of course it would have affected her, as fragile as she was.

A plate holding a set of rolled omelets and strawberry crepes topped with whip cream was set in front of him, followed by a steaming mug of tea.

"Wataru said it was your favorite," said Ema, who hesitated before putting her hand to his bedraggled head, so lightly he hardly felt it.

He took in her khaki green shorts and red baseball tee, not thinking.

Then she sat down next to Wataru, handing him a second plate, and accepting the controller from him so she could play while he ate. After a minute, Masaomi sat up to take her offering from the coffee table and take the first bite of crepe. It had been forever since someone had made this for him for breakfast. Ukyo would not hear of dessert for a meal so early in the day. The sweet taste of strawberries burst across his tongue, bringing another surge of comfort. Only a few bites in and he felt like he was going to cry.

Wataru made quick work of his crepes, however, and sat back to watch Ema play. Masaomi enjoyed the companionable quiet, filled with the low background music of the video game as he swallowed his breakfast down the rock in his throat, then hugged the tea. As he brushed his mouth over the warmth, he wondered if this is what it would be like if he had a child with Ema—if they became a real family. Would they know when he had bad nights and sit next to him until he woke up with strawberry crepes? If not, surely they would let him melt in the same room as them for a bit.

The rock in his throat got unbearable. He got up too quick, catching Wataru's attention.

"Big bro?"

"Shower," he said lowly, afraid Wataru might hear the emotion.

But he managed to get to his room without any tagalongs and had his bathroom door locked behind him by the time the tears came down.

"That can't ever happen," he told himself harshly. _You're twice her age. You're her brother. She told you to your face._

And yet, simply because she had not told him point blank she would never marry him, that string of hope was enough to torture him when he was low like this and get his stupid, masochistic brain to come up with horrible thoughts like having children with her—all while he was down and weak from the deaths of his innocent, suffering little patients.

When he came out, clean and clear-eyed, his bedroom door was closed but Wataru waited for him on his bed, expression puckered in concern.

"What's up?" he asked.

Masaomi knew better than to give Wataru his practiced, fake smile, yet he did anyway out of habit.

"Just got hit pretty bad from last night, that's all. A little girl died out of the blue that I should have thought of when that virus came through."

Yet Wataru frowned. "Are you sure that's all?"

Masaomi hesitated. Wataru's warm brown eyes held his, begging him not to lie. It wasn't hard to do. Masaomi was never all that good at it. Especially with children, and Wataru still had enough of the puppy dog chub about his face to qualify for that, despite his protests.

With a heavy sigh, Masaomi deflated against the wall behind him and slid down.

"I'm just a hopeless creep, that's all."

Wataru frowned. "Why do you think you're a creep? You're not."

"Because I'm in love with Ema," he ducked his face into his hands. "And she'll never love me back. Not in the same way."

"That doesn't make you a creep." He heard his brother sniff haughtily. "It just makes you competition. Who wouldn't love Ema?"

Masaomi had to chuckle at that. Wataru would say that. Any of his other brothers would have been a whole range of emotions from angry to jealous to wryly satisfied that they had been right. Not completely unsurprised, accepting, and bold.

"But it's bad," he breathed. "Wataru…it's bad. I've never…for anyone…it makes it hard to breathe."

The bedsprings of his bed creaked as Wataru moved. Next thing he knew, he felt his brother's hands on his wrists, yanking his hands out from underneath his head. For a moment, Masaomi was caught in the surprise at how large his baby brother's hands had gotten. When had they gotten so big? Where had he missed that?

Then it was in the solemn, misplaced grown up gaze on Wataru's still childish face.

"If she's that important, you should at least try. You have to. Besides, you know Ema would never think of you as a creep or old or any of those mean things. That's why you like her, isn't it?"

Masaomi couldn't help but recoil. "She told me how upsetting all of our brother's advances have been on her, though. The last thing I want to do is make her uncomfortable. What if I make her uncomfortable?"

Wataru rolled his eyes. "Aren't you uncomfortable right now?"

"Yes."

"Don't you think she'd care about that too?"

"…"

"Of course she would. She's kind like that. I'm upfront with her all the time about my feelings and she still plays games and hangs out with me."

 _That's because she doesn't take you seriously yet._ Masaomi wasn't dumb enough to voice that out loud.

He tried to take his wrists back from Wataru, but the boy resisted.

"Promise me you'll let her know, or I'm going to make you drag me along for the rest of the day."

It was a childish threat, one Wataru hadn't used since he was eight. Whenever Masaomi had refused him something he wanted, he'd cling to an arm or a leg with a clamp-like grip until Masaomi compromised or enough brothers ganged up on him to pry him off.

The return of such a threat, though, made him smile, and warmed him somewhat.

"And what if you're wrong?" he asked. "And I don't get to wake up to you two playing video games and crepes?"

"Then I'll learn how to make crepes and you'll get over it," said Wataru dismissively. "Honestly, I thought you were the adult here. Grow up."

Caught off guard by that comment, Masaomi threw back his head and laughed.

"Don't you know, Wataru? I'm a pediatrician because I couldn't grow up."

"Then I'll grow up and take Ema away from you, so no skin off my nose. Just stop moping about it and come back down. She's worried about you."

That silenced him. Was she? Really? Of course she was.

 _Isn't that why you like her?_

"Aye aye, Captain."

Wataru smiled. "Aye aye, _sir."_

"Yeah yeah, sir. I hope you don't plan on bossing Ema around like this."

"Of course not. It'll be all 'my love' and 'Watty-chan' from her."

"That doesn't prove anything."

"Just shut up and move."

"Now that was rude. I'm coming so get out already."

Yet, even as Wataru released his wrists and scampered out, Masaomi found he could still smile, and for real this time.


	19. Propriety

19

Hikari visited him a few days later in his bedroom while Masaomi was getting ready. Since catching one of his brothers doing something inappropriate was what the okami lived for, he took advantage of the fact that Masaomi never locked his door and walked right in. Thankfully, all Masaomi was doing was pulling on his t-shirt to sleep.

"Here to report, boss," Hikaru said cheekily, jutting out his hip to show off the thigh high heels he wore. "And I brought witnesses to back me up and everything, just how you like it."

Behind him, with an air of at least attempting to be polite, came Azusa, followed by a cautious Tsubaki.

Masaomi sat down on his unmade bed with an ungraceful ploof. He wasn't looking forward to this. At the same time, he could feel the monster in his chest rearing up, readying for a fight.

"What?" he asked, running a hand through his hair.

"No need to sound so enthusiastic," said Hikaru. "And it's Natsume. Apparently—"

"He nearly made her cry the other night," blurted Tsubaki suddenly. "At my coming out for the anime voice acting. He gave her a key to his apartment and wouldn't take it back, and I know he did something while Ema was in his apartment. She gets all jumpy around him and—"

"Tsubaki, that's not any proof of anything," said Azusa. "You sound like a tattle telling five year old."

"Isn't that basically what we've come down too?"

"No." He turned to look past Hikaru at Masaomi, expression grim. "Big bro, I caught him cornering her in the elevator and kissing her. He was holding back her wrists. When she tried to protest, he played on her sympathies." He looked aside suddenly, as though ashamed. "You know we've all done it."

Tsubaki wouldn't look at Masaomi either.

"On a scale of one to rape, just how hot was this kiss?" asked Hikaru.

Both twins turned on him with hackles raised.

"This isn't some side show of yours—"

"When will you take other people's feelings seriously for once—"

"Oh, I do!" cried Hikaru, as though delighted by their anger. "Want to see my chart?"

"OY!" Masaomi barked.

Like when they had as kids, they instantly quieted.

"Did any of you talk to Ema about this?" he asked.

"Yes," said Tsubaki. "I was the one who talked to her about it because she looked so upset. She looked ready to bawl and had all but ran away from the event because she was so stressed about her brother's making a raucous over seeing her do something they think means she's putting one of them over the other."

"Yes, we do have some stupid ones, don't we?" said Hikaru. "Yusuke, Subaru, and Kaname sound like they've figured it out, at least. And hopefully you two, by the sounds of it."

Azusa threw up his arms, "Hey, I invited her to the event hoping she'd see Tsubaki's good side. You won't see me trying to play dirty."

"She's not a game," snapped Masaomi. "She's your sister, and unless she explicitly tells you it's okay, none of you should be going near her. If this were any other woman, half of you would have been called up on sexual harassment charges."

Something of the monster must have shown on his face, for the twins instantly seemed to wilt and Hikaru lost his playful air.

"I thought grown men would know better," he growled. "And instead of talking to her like grown men and asking her permission…" he trailed off with a sigh. "I thought better of you. That's why I haven't done anything for the past year or so. My mistake."

A hard, heavy silence punctuated that statement.

"If there's nothing else, I'd like to get to bed." He lifted up his covers for emphasis.

Hikaru seemed to recover and saluted him with a plastic like grin. In that moment, Masaomi knew he too wasn't innocent in all this. He had 'teased' Ema as well.

"Sorry," muttered Tsubaki.

Then they were gone, and he was alone with his mind sharpened by the hot fury in his veins and his hands cold and dry.

He dropped his face into them. "I'm so sorry, Ema. I really thought better of them."

But just like with Wataru's big hands, Masaomi didn't realize how much change he had missed over the years.

 **Author's Note: You're in for a treat. I wrote a good handful of chapters. :)**


	20. Passkey

20

"Ema, do you still have that key Natsume gave you?"

"H-how do you-!?"

"Tsubaki told me about it, I'm sorry. I know you wanted to return it to him yourself to get the point across…but I think it would be better if I did."

"…."

"I'm not going to hurt him."

"H-h-he won't be-I don't want him to be angry with you. This is because of my wishy washiness—my lack of communication."

"No, you've been plenty clear. He should know better. Trust me. Please? I've known Natsume a lot longer than you."

"…Okay."

 **Author's note: really short, but don't worry. Next chapter is coming in the morning.**


	21. Paranoia

**Well, it's** ** _technically_** **tomorrow morning, so...**

21

It was a little difficult fitting in some time for Natsume in his tight schedule, which only seemed to get tighter as the virus picked up and he threw himself in full force to prevent any more deaths. But he managed to leave an extra hour early from Dani by mentioning it had something to do with his sister, which was a wild card to play in and of itself. No need to give the gossip more fodder, but since they were going to gossip anyways, might as well use it to his benefit.

It took him a lot longer to drug and buzz two cats than it did with a man's head. Fur was a lot finer than human hair and, well, two cats had a hell of a lot of it. He ended up not doing the best job at it, but he got the desired effect of covering Natsume's entire house with ultra-fine cat fur. It would take him weeks to get it all out, and even years from now he'd be pulling up tuffs of cat fur from the corners and creases of his furniture.

He made sure to leave a card and the key.

 _'Next time you think about shoving your desires on Ema without her permission, buy a better vacuum.'_

Oh yeah. He'd have to secretly sabotage that as well. It was okay. Natsume still used the old vacuum Mom had given him for college. It needed to be replaced anyways.

Though not allergic to cats, even he was sneezing up a storm and fighting to get cat hair off him when he got home and had to shower twice. Dang, this stuff should be labeled as a biohazard.

Because of that, it was pretty late by the time he got out and wandered downstairs for some food. Cat hair had irritated his eyes to the point he was ready to just go to bed and call it quits for the night on seeing. He was still upstairs on the railing when he walked into the opening of fifth floor and saw Ukyo locking what could only be a disheveled Ema onto the couch.

A year ago, Masaomi would have backed off, thinking that Ukyo and Ema were having a moment together. Then he saw the tie on the chair. Ukyo never left his ties out. It was one of his pet peeves. Loose socks on the floor, too sweet breakfasts, and ties left lying around. You'd have to grow up in a house of 13 boys to understand.

But it was the alarmed look on Ema's face that cut the deal for him.

Fire flared up from his gut. Everything narrowed in on the blond head nuzzling into Ema's neck.

"Ukyo—you're not yourself, please—"

"I've had a horrid day, please just give me a moment," he murmured, and the only reason Masaomi caught it was because he was already down the stairs.

 _You know we've all played on her sympathies._

Ema saw Masaomi long before Ukyo realized someone else was in the room. His hair was mussed, and a second before Masaomi reached him the scent of bourbon reached his nose.

 _He didn't…_

With strength he hadn't used in ages, Masaomi grabbed the back of Ukyo's dress shirt with both hands and hauled him across the room with one heave. Ukyo tried to catch his footing, but stumbled and hit the wall before he could.

" _I am done with you all!_ " he roared. "I swear, you're regressing to damn _teenagers_!"

"M-Masaomi?" Ukyo gasped, eyes bulging. "I didn't—did I just—"

"Oh, sober now?" Masaomi bared his teeth. "To your room. Get!"

If he hadn't been so angry, Masaomi might have had a hard time not laughing as Ukyo's limbs turned to flailing spider's legs in a frantic attempt to obey. When he didn't move fast enough, Masaomi growled, heaved Ukyo up by the back of his shirt, and kicked him towards the stairs. Only once he couldn't see him anymore did he turn to Ema.

She had her legs pulled in close, her arms clutched to her chest, and her face bright, bright red.

Instantly, he backtracked, anger being replaced by horror.

He had just…oh God, he had lost it, just like his father. For all the world, he probably even sounded like him. And the way Ukyo had looked at him—he hadn't had to see that look since they'd been younger and his father had still been around. It was the same look—

Ema jumped up from the couch, just as alarmed as she had been when Ukyo necked her.

"It's okay! It's alright!"

He stared at her, uncertain as to what she saw that would make her react so violently. Even if some of it had shown on his face, she wouldn't have known…she wouldn't understand…for if she did, she'd never say those words so lightly.

Oh god. He didn't even deserve to be in the same room as her let alone in love with her. To think that he thought he could ever be a father.

"I'm sorry," he said, backing away even as she reached for him.

"Masaomi, it's okay."

He turned on his heel and fled—straight out ran from her and up the stairs on Ukyo's heels. He sprinted to his room, then slammed the door close and, for the first time in many years, locked the door.

Then he stood there, trembling like a man with palsy.

He'd gotten out of control. The very brothers he had fought to protect from his father, he'd turned against. So what that he didn't start throwing his fists, he'd freaking circumcised Fuuto than didn't give him painkillers. He'd terrified Tsubaki, made Natsume's life an irritating, furry hell for the next few weeks—

He laughed, but it was thin and high.

"I really haven't grown up," he wheezed to himself. "Punishments, protecting, preventing, no. They were just petty pranks because I can't be a man about it."

He flopped his back onto the door and slid down to the floor. His throat hurt. His hands had balled up, wanting to tear at something.

 _I hate myself._

 ** _Author's_** **Note: Ugh, my editors right. I do write 'anyways' way too much.**


	22. Past

**Random fact about me: I am actually the oldest of 11 kids. ^.^ I have ten little brothers and sisters. I guess that kind of puts me in Masaomi's shoes, eh? Though, granted, they aren't all from the same parents. I'm sort of the high school whoopsie baby, so I'm the only kid from my mom and dad. Then they both went off and got married to other people and had more kids.**

 **Still, I took my role as the eldest very seriously and to this day, even though I'm moved out and half of my siblings have too, I'm ultra protective of them to the point I have to ignore when they date otherwise I'll want to tear people apart. I also freak out when they get sick or...yeah. My mom had bad chronic depression and crap luck with men, so I helped out alot taking care of my siblings.**

22

Yusuke was still little more than a baby and his mother pregnant with Futo. With most of the kids in school, kindergarten or otherwise, you'd think there wouldn't be so much pressure on his parents. But his father could only move so high as a police officer and earn so much, meaning the lot of them were still trying to make do with the cheapest three-room apartment they could find, which was absolutely expansive, especially in Japanese city terms. Eleven kids in two rooms. Yusuke wasn't even in a bedroom with the rest of them when he slept. He had a little makeshift mattress on the floor of their parents' closet. And even then his father couldn't fill in the bills on his own. So his mother had gone to an evening trading school in order to get a job that paid enough to make it worth it for her to be out of the home, because daycare costs were almost as much as their freaking rent. Not only that, but Masaomi had gotten a part-time job as well. He had been the only one old enough to do so at the time. Legally, at least.

But he soon felt he had to quit, as when his mother went to school, it left all the boys with their father. Since Masaomi sort of made up as a second mother, he knew how to work with his brothers to get everyone fed, homework done, bathed (in their sole bathroom, nonetheless), and to bed. It definitely was more of an art than a skill—neither of which their father seemed to possess on this wide of a scale.

So he cut his hours to right after school to right before his mother left, graveyard shifts, and weekends. Even so, with keeping his grades up to top notch—he had to, since he couldn't afford prep school or clubs—Masaomi began to wonder if maybe he had too much to handle. Sure he'd grown up taking care of his many siblings and his mother, and there always seemed to be toddler in the house (they were the most upkeep, for sure, with their curiosity, mobility, and temperamental moods), but his adult life was in sight now.

But it wasn't so much his home life that got to him. Masaomi had grown up with that.

It was bullies he couldn't handle.

And Udo Tounoski had taken the cake.

Usually Masaomi didn't have to deal with bullies directly. Ukyo, while ultra clean cut and nerd of the family, had a mean right hook he wasn't afraid to toss around. Kaname, though still in middle school at the time, was going through a punk phase and was more than happy to bash in a few heads (even if he wasn't all that good at it).

But Hikaru…

Udo Tounoski had it out for Hikaru, and in a sly, underhand sort of way.

It wasn't completely secret that Hikaru liked to dress as a girl on his off hours, and Udo couldn't get enough of that. But he did it in such a way that Masaomi wouldn't have even known if he hadn't been looking through Hikaru's book bag for paperwork Kaname had said the middle school had asked them to fill out.

There he found the lewd pictures…and the letters…and the razors…

When he confronted Hikaru, the usually happy-go-lucky imp who floated above it all for the sole purpose of laughing at it burst into tears and told Masaomi all of it, and the threats Udo had issued if Hikaru would tell anyone. All the things in his book bag would be incriminating if he showed anyone, which was why Udo snuck them into his shoe locker. But it wasn't just the social and emotional threats. The boy was huge, for one thing, so it didn't stop him from doing whatever he wanted to Hikaru physically, and it wasn't like any of his older brothers could do anything about it. He would have bulldozed the wannabe Kaname with ease. Ukyo had managed to get a teacher to fund his own prep school and, since he wasn't old enough to work, he spent all his free time there. The rest of the boys were still too young to do anything…

And besides, Masaomi was the big brother. Second man and mom of the house. The last line of punishment to any who dared to harm his little brothers.

And in order to avoid the threats that Udo had made, Masaomi didn't think he could trust the principal, and if the nosey Hikaru didn't trust any of his teachers enough, Masaomi couldn't either. After all, he'd gone to a different middle school. He didn't know any of them.

But he had to do something. Hikaru had bathroom cleaning duty with the troll at the end of the week, and the kid was in the throws about it.

So, despite his desperate need for any spare moment in class, before school got out he asked to go to the bathroom. He left early enough to make it to the middle school. He got in while no one was about to see him and waited outside his brother's classroom.

Even as Hikaru came out with the rest of the kids, giving him a tentative smile, Masaomi knew this wouldn't be enough. He couldn't run out of school every time Hikaru was forced alone with this guy, nor would him meeting him at his classroom be enough to deter the kid from what he had been doing.

And at the time, Masaomi had been running low on sleep for the whole week. Yusuke had been sick and a needy child, and his mother had been needing more sleep due to school. A midterm was coming up he wasn't prepared for, and he had also just found cigarettes in Kaname's backpack.

He wasn't prepared for the white-hot snap of fury that took hold of him. He hadn't any strength.

And as always, instead of blinding him with rage, it only blinded certain parts of his mentality while sharpening others.

Looking back on it, he wondered if he had the makings of a good yakuza boss right there.

So, he purposely offered to help Hikaru with the cleaning supplies so they could get home quicker. He avoided the teacher's sight. They had been busy with other students anyways.

Hikaru pointed him to the cleaning closet. He found the chemicals. Grabbed the bucket. Held his breath as he poured.

By the time he had them all set on the little cart and such and found the boys bathroom, the halls had emptied considerably. There were low whimpers coming from inside the bathroom.

Inside he found Udo doing everything that he had threatened to his much smaller, very not-gay, not willing, terrified little brother up against a sink. Apparently, seeing tall big brother at the door had tipped it off to him that Hikaru had spilled the beans.

The white-hot monster within him had flared up brighter than the noonday sun. He grabbed the bucket, tore the startled boy back with his dick still hanging out, and threw the contents at his face.

And he remembered thinking at the time that if seeing his brother in girls clothes did it that much for Udo, well, maybe the bastard would do better not being able to see at all.

What he threw at Udo's face was a mostly bleach concoction. It had badly irritated the skin on his face, but burned his eyes. Melted them, really.

Masaomi was all but expelled from school. He had to face a nearly blind Udo in the hospital and the faces of his screaming parents. Then his own screaming father who, as a cop, was nigh hysterical with the idea that he had raised a freaking sociopath. Really, a boy that would sneak into a younger kid's school and throw bleach into his eyes? He dealt with criminals every day who started out doing the same things when they were young, he said. Even after Hikaru and Masaomi brought their side of the story up and their own evidence, including the scars on Hikaru's arms, that had only been enough to allow Masaomi to graduate from home, and to make Hikaru's school life only next door to living hell.

But that wasn't the worst part. Not the horror or sickening guilt he felt when he saw Udo's damaged and swollen eyes, not the slap of the furious adults, nor the disappointment in his mother's eyes, even when she said she was proud that he had protected her baby from being molested.

It had been the fact that his school saw it necessary to call social services because of what he had done.

They came. They saw the eleven kids with one more on the way crammed into the tiny apartment. They saw a sick, whiny Yusuke in a closet, they saw the lone bathroom, the cupboards full of cheap food, the bills, the overall insanity of it all—

And they told his parents they had one month to figure out how to afford a much bigger place or the younger kids were being taken. Everyone from Tsubaki and down.

Masaomi's thoughts of quitting his job ended. Ukyo quit prep school to find a job, even though he had to lie about his age, and Kaname quit his punking to do the same. His father quit coming home entirely to watch the kids while his mom went to school in order to work double shifts. In a way, it was a good thing Masaomi was forced to finish high school from home, though. It meant he could stay home with Yusuke, Iori, and Subaru. That allowed his mother to find a full-time job as a seamstress in a fashion stylist's shop, which led up to her career as a fashion career woman herself in the end, though that would be some time into the future.

But the pressure and hardship it put his family into, and the looks on their faces when the social worker told them with pure disgust in disdain that they couldn't breed and raise kids like cattle in a pen…

He more or less became a quiet recluse for the rest of High School. When the year and a half were over, Masaomi managed to get into a community college that really didn't care what he did socially, since his grades were so phenomenal.

But Masaomi came out changed from that. Hikaru seemed to be the only one that seemed outwardly upset by Masaomi's new extreme pacifism, while the other older boys were too caught up in their own lives to express more than slight disappointment. After all, it wasn't like they wouldn't have beaten Udo black and blue for what he had done. Kaname even threatened to finish what Masaomi had started with his stupid dollar store pocketknife in hand that he had named 'Blood Lightning.'

But it was one thing for boys to threaten. It was another for a nearly grown one to actually go through with it, and make his mark permanent.


	23. Perturb

23

He hadn't been moping by his door long before someone knocked.

"Masaomi?" came Ema's voice. "Masaomi, can I please come in?"

His knee jerk reaction was to say nothing and let her think that he had run somewhere else.

"I know you're in there. Juli saw you through the window."

He looked up at his window, stunned. Her squirrel? Yeah, they'd all caught her having quiet conversations with her squirrel, but only Louise took the idea of the squirrel being sentient seriously.

Could Ema talk to animals?

Before he could linger long on that, Ema knocked on his door again, harder.

"Masaomi, please!"

If anybody knew how that tone in her voice turned his will into puddy, he'd never live it down.

As it was, he was up and opening the door before his brain could catch up to his body and scream otherwise.

She looked petite and womanly in her casual baggy t-shirt and shorts. Her hair wasn't tied up as it usually was, but down about her shoulders. Even so, he could see red marks at the curve of her neck where Ukyo's mouth had been.

He shuddered.

Her eyes were on his face though, wan and wide with concern. Her eyebrows bunched up in dismay at what she saw.

"Can I come in? Please, I'm worried about you. You're so pale and…"

He had already stepped aside. After all, she'd unknowingly liquefied his will, and it was essentially twitching unconscious in some back somewhere corner. As she stepped in, he kept as far away from her as he could. She hadn't gotten far though before she turned around and reached for his face.

"It's okay, Masaomi. Ukyo's okay, you didn't do anything wrong, I didn't get him off me fast enough—"

"He's a grown man," came spitteling out of it before he could stop it. "He knows better than to drink in the living room, he can't hold his alcohol at all and he knows it." But that was beside the point. His insides cramped up painfully as Ukyo's terrified expression passed through his mind. He ducked his head down and away from her touch.

"I doubt you're like you're father."

He jerked up to stare at her, stunned.

"What?"

"That's what you're afraid of, right?" she said, hesitantly, having drawn back to the other side of the short entryway to his room when he'd jerked his face away from her.

"How do you…?"

She tipped her chin away guiltily. "Hikari took me out to eat the other night. He, um, told me a bit about you." Remembering that seemed to give her courage, though, and she looked back to him, mouth thin with determination. "Masaomi, it is perfectly healthy and normal for you to feel angry and to snap. If that was the worst you get, then you could never, ever even come close to being like your father. What you did was a perfectly normal reaction. Just because you lose your cool doesn't mean you've suddenly turned into him."

"But, Ukyo's face…" his jaw had turned rubbery. He couldn't think straight.

"That's because you were scary," red had crossed her cheeks. "But...not in a bad way. You're brothers respect you, and when someone who is usually so gentle and kind gets angry, it's always terrifying because it's rare and no one is use to it. It isn't because you've suddenly turned into an abusive jerk. Not to mention they all care so much about what you think, that the thought that you may think badly of them scares them, and that's also not bad." Despite her flushed cheeks and thin mouth, the smile she gave him reached her eyes. "You're a good parent."

"I'm not a parent," he said quickly.

"Yes. You are. And you were asked to be since you were a kid, and…" she paused, her expression filling with earnestness as she did so. "And you did better than anyone could have expected. Masaomi, you're wonderful."

All he could do was stare. She knew. How could she? Hikaru couldn't have possibly conveyed it right. He must have told him all the rosy stuff, not all the times Masaomi had locked himself in a closet when he got too frustrated with them all and needed some time to cool off for fear he'd blow up at them or go to town on their rear ends. He couldn't have said all the times he shrugged off his brothers because he was just too beat or all the times he'd yelled at them. He couldn't have mentioned Udo.

"You don't believe me," she said.

"How can I?" he said weakly.

"Shouldn't the fact that you're so upset over this be proof of that? You're so soft hearted and so concerned for your brothers' well-being that pulling a drunk brother off your sister and kicking him upstairs sends you running in panic that you had been too cruel." The smile had turned amused, and her gaze had turned soft.

"Ukyo looked at our dad like that," he said softly.

"Like a scary parent," she amended. "If my dad had been that angry with me, I'd be freaked out too."

He wanted to protest that Ukyo was his little brother, only a year or so from his age, so he couldn't have been a father figure to him, but he didn't. Instead he slunked towards his bed and sat down on the ground next to it, resting his back against it. His legs had gone wobbly too. What was this feeling overwhelming him? Like a huge pressure that had been squashing the breath out of him had suddenly lifted?

Ema came and sat across from him, crossing her legs.

"You're okay," she insisted. "Ukyo is okay. I'm okay."

"Are you really?" he asked, cringing at how desperate he sounded.

"Yes."

He let out a huge heave of air, and then he knew the name to this feeling: relief. Relief so profound he could have wept. Fortunately, he didn't, nor did his throat tighten to threaten it.

A few minutes passed between them in silence, in the which Masaomi breathed deep of the relief and reassembled his shattered composure.

Then, Ema said, "You know, Hikaru thinks the world of you. I'm sure all your brothers do, but Hikaru especially."

"What makes you say that?"

She clutched her hands into her lap, where her fingers danced and played with one another. "He, um, told me this story about a boy in middle school who, uh, sexually harassed him."

Masaomi paled. "Oh." It was a very small, tiny 'oh.'

"He said—he said he knew others would have dawdled or spouted threats they may or may not even go through with, or even question him or tell him it was his fault for dressing like a girl. But you took everything he said without a single doubt and did something about it the very next day. You stepped up without hesitation and did something that would ensure he wouldn't be tortured like that ever again. You risked everything to protect him, even your future, because getting into med school was hard for you after that. Hikaru said that, since then, no one else has ever made him feel so loved, and that it has really upset him that protecting him traumatized you from being that way ever again." Her cheek twitched. "Until I came into the picture. He wanted to thank me. How silly is that?"

Masaomi didn't point out that it really wasn't silly, since his passiveness was one of the reasons he was thirty-four and single, but he caught himself in time realizing it would have given too much away to her.

Ema bowed her head to her fidgeting hands. "I'm sorry I pushed you to that. Thank you for caring for me enough to protect me, but I still feel like I should have done something beforehand to prevent that." She sighed. "I've been thinking about it for a while, but maybe…maybe I shouldn't live here anymore."

That made his stomach go cold.

"If you think that will stop my brothers, they'll just follow you wherever you go, and this time the rest of us won't be around to stop anything."

"Yeah, that's what Hikaru said." She shrugged, gave a short 'ha ha' as though to say 'what can you do about it' then gave a wheezy little sigh. "And despite everything, I really do love living here. I grew up alone a lot of the time, and it's really comforting to me to hear everyone moving about in the house, talking and laughing and fighting. I don't think I could sleep without it." She gave him an uncomfortable little smile that inevitably faltered and she pulled up her knees to her face to hide it, looking away. "Masaomi…why am I such a big deal to them?"

"Why wouldn't you be? Mom isn't the only one who's desperately wanted a girl in the family."

She flashed him a flat look over her forearm. "You don't seriously expect me to believe that all of them just have sister complexes? Though I guess that would makes sense, I mean, there's no way I'm the type for so many guys. Not to mention they're all so interesting and I'm so…boring."

He frowned at that. He felt better now that the threat of her moving away seemed to have passed, but he didn't much care for her down talking herself either. "You are not boring."

"No, Masaomi. I am. I'm passive, talk to quietly and about boring things, my hobby is playing video games and cooking, I don't dream big, I can't make people laugh like Tsubaki, I can't be intellectual like… like most of you, or outspoken or entertaining or…" she gave another big sigh. "Fuki was right. I am like some bland main character in an otome game."

"No, you're not, Ema," he sat forward, dismayed. "You are the kindest person we have ever met. You came to us nothing but earnest to love us as your brothers and to take care of us. You're forgiving, sincere, warm, thoughtful, intuitive, gentle, and, as my office lady points out, very cute. What guy wouldn't love that? Forget about us, why haven't you ever had a boyfriend?"

It was her turn to stare at him now, and the blush had reached all the way up to her forehead.

"Uh, I…" she looked away. "Um…well, I always came straight home after school when my dad got married because I was—I was excited to have brothers, and…but there were boys who offered, I guess, but I didn't really think…"

He let out a short laugh. "And you never saw anyone you liked? It might have saved you some of the trouble worrying about why so many brothers like you if you had."

She blinked and looked at the little toy dragon on the floor next to his nightstand, right where she had left it last time. She didn't pick it up, but kept looking at it.

"I…" she crossed her feet. "I don't know. None of them felt…warm enough to me. Real enough."

He raised an eyebrow, rubbing at his eyes as he did so. Cat fur really was irritating.

"Well, that sounds vague enough to be effective," he said, giving her a smile. "Have you ever met anyone warm enough? Every liked anyone?" Even as he asked that, he wondered if he really had turned into a masochist. The answers would only be digging his grave.

"Yeah," she said softly. "Yeah…but he's not really…possible."

Suddenly, he understood how his office girls felt.

"Is he married?" he asked.

She flinched. "What? No!"

"Too young?" Wataru popped in his head.

"No."

"Gay?"

Her eyebrows pinched together. "I don't think so. At least, I hope not."

He hesitated. "Too old?"

She pushed out a snuff of air from her nose and put her legs down, straightening.

"Well if you're going to ask those questions, what about you? Why aren't you married yet? Not interested?"

"No, I'm interested," he said, leaning back casually. This was safe zone. "I'm just too conservative, too prude, too passive, and too chauvinistic."

She stared at him for a moment. Then burst into laughter.

He waited for her to calm down, smiling all the while. He enjoyed these visits of hers. He had already forgotten his previous trauma and was soaking in the strange warm-hot peace she brought with her. It wasn't unlike when he had woken up to crepes and her and Wataru playing video games. There was safety in…whatever this was. Shelter from the storms of life.

Since they had only be talking by the light of the lights outside his window, he leaned up and turned on the lamp on his bedside. Thinking of sentient, angry squirrels, he also got up to close the curtains, just as an afterthought.

"You can't be serious? Masaomi, you aren't any of those things."

"No, really," and he went off to explain the four reasons—how he didn't want to have sex before marriage because birth control hadn't worked for his parents, how he wanted his wife to stay home with the kids and be intelligent and educated at the same time, how he never stood up or fought back against or for any of his girlfriends—

He paused at that, chest tightening with apprehension. Had that been too much to tell her? That wouldn't be enough for her to guess his feelings—

Wataru's face and voice suddenly pushed into his head.

 _You should at least try! You have to!_

He sat on the bed now and glanced at Ema, who had scooted back across his floor to lean against his desk. She had given in and taken up the little dragon toy again, poking his nose and stroking his satin sewn scales.

"So…you only get angry for your family," she said. "That scary face you have is only for family and you haven't found a girl yet who feels like she could be that for you?"

He shifted uncomfortably and covered it up by pulling his legs onto his bed. "More or less."

She was quiet for a moment, petting the dragon with her fingertips then moving to flick his floppy cloth wings.

"You can have him, if you like."

She looked up, looking a bit startled, as he knew she would. "Oh, I didn't mean—and I touched him without permission—"

"Ema, he's just a toy. Toys are to be enjoyed." He chuckled under his breath. "Sometimes it's like you're so ready to get in trouble." A scary thought occurred to him. "I haven't made you feel like that with how I've been lately, have I?"

"No, of course not. I've always been this way." She paused in her wing flopping, just to settle the dragon's chubby soft paws on her knees and go back to flicking wings. The little thing was only big enough to fill Masaomi's hand, nothing more, and its tail trailed onto the floor. "It's just so hard to believe sometimes that I actually have siblings now. I've always wanted a big noisy family like this. So much…" she paused, swallowing hard. "I can't tell you how lonely it got. And since I'm only a step sister, I'm still waiting for someone to reject me, or maybe even all ofyou."

"I can say for a fact that isn't going to happen anytime soon." He gave her his biggest most sincere smile he could muster. "We love you, Ema." He let out a single bark of laughter. "We love you too much, even."

"Does that include you?"

Her dark eyes had fallen uncharacteristically solemn on him, capturing him.

His mouth went dry. He waited for her to catch what she said and apologize for sounding creepy and go into flustered fits of her mishap.

But she didn't. She just kept looking at him with those shivering dark eyes, her skin, for once, pale rather than flushed.

Then he realized he had let the silence go on for too long and he started to panic, but his mouth wouldn't work. Nothing came from his brain to say. He should lie to her, but he couldn't. Not to Ema. Ema only deserved honest, and Wataru's stupid, cute little serious face kept flashing his head, chanting about how he should at least try—that he had to if Ema was that important.

"You never stood up for any of the girls you dated, but you stood up for me after years of being quiet," she said, so quiet, though he could hear the fragility to it, as though she suddenly realized she had turned to fine spun glass. "I was just…wondering if it was because you actually saw me as a sister or—it's just with everyone else…"

She grew quieter. Of course. She had to be brave to ask that.

It was the least he could do.

He drew into himself, ducking his head below his shoulders, the fear moving him to appear as small a target as possible—as less a creep and old man as possible.

"Yes," he murmured, almost whispered. "That includes me."

 **Author's note: Is anyone going to stop to be impressed that I found relative chapter titles that all started with 'p'? Come on.**


	24. Pleased

**Muwahaha, thank you. Thank you. Yes, the p starting chapters were difficult. Now I feel appreciated.**

 **I could have held all these chapters back in a log and just divied them out week by week, but this is my indulgence story. Also, I hate reading uncompleted stories and waiting on stories, so here you go. A sign of my empathy.**

24

He had closed his eyes and ducked his head, so he didn't know she had moved until he heard the creak of his bedsprings and felt her weight near his feet.

"I've been meaning to ask," she said. "Why are your eyes all red? I kind of figured it's not kosher to ask a man if he's been crying, but I'm feeling brave."

He ran his fingers into his hair. "I, um, shaved Natsume's cats. Fur…got into my eyes…"

There was a stunned pause.

Then she tipped over besides him on the bed and positively roared with laughter.

"How old are you?" she managed to cry inbetween breaths.

"Please don't remind me," he moaned, though the horrible cold tightness had lightened from his chest. She wasn't acting creeped by him or made excuses to flee his bedroom. This was good.

"How is that suppose to be a punishment? Does he especially love their fluffiness?"

"I covered his apartment with the fur," he had to stop to let her laugh. "Cat fur's really fine and hard to clean, it's going to be sticking to his stuff for months."

"Oh god," she wheezed, and he dared to look askance at her and saw she had curled up on her side at the top of his bed, clutching her stomach. "That's so…that's so devious. Now I know where the twins got it. Oh god, Hikaru's right. This side of yours is awesome."

He didn't know what to say to that. He felt like smiling, but he thought it better if he didn't. It wouldn't be appropriate to smile at something like that—crap, too late. He could feel his muscles unwinding as well, even raised his head.

He loved this. Her laughing, smiling…

She eventually winded down, gasped a bit to catch her breath, then pushed herself up to her knees to look at him, still grinning.

"You always make me feel so warm," she said. "So safe, and like everything is going to be alright." Slowly, as though afraid to startle him, she wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him, nuzzling her face into his hair. "Thank you. I love you so much."

His heart skipped a beat. No. She hadn't meant it that way.

He touched her arm under his chin without thinking about it, as though unsure that it was really there. "As an awesome big brother, right?"

"If that's what you want." She rubbed her nose against his hair again. "Whatever you want. If you meant what you said, you can have me, if you want."

He had died. That, or he was asleep and this was one of those dreams. If that were the case, any minute now she'd be dressed in something sheer or equally scandalous. But no, he could feel the same old T-shirt she had been wearing against his chin and neck, and down there she was wearing the same boyish shorts.

His heart inflated, fit to burst. He wanted to scream with delight, run in circles, tear open the window and carry on like a madman until men in white coats came to carry him away.

She pulled away, and as she did so he let her arm run past his palm and turned to look her in the face for the first time. He saw a familiar warmth there, nothing new or surprising, but it encompassed him and he thought he could accept what it was now.

"Can…can I hug you too?"

She laughed. "Sorry, should I have asked you for permission?"

"You never have to ask," he said, even as he reached for her and pulled her into his lap to squeeze her close. Every part of her pressed against his chest, warm, solid, and real. He allowed himself to linger on her scent, even dared to bring a hand up to her neck where her soft mass of brown hair hung.

When he finally convinced himself to let go, her face moved in and kissed him on the mouth, though as tentative and lightly as a butterfly.

Needle-like shocks zipped from his gut to the tips of his fingers and toes, making him feel wired and high. He brushed her lips back with his own, too scared to believe it, not wanting to go too far, wanting to verify permission.

She brushed back, even closing her lips about his upper one.

He had to stop himself from bruising her with the passion of his next kiss. Instead he managed to settle for firm. He started to get lost as his mind and awareness reeled as though drunk. Her mouth moved so easily in time with his. Soon he was angled, breathing with her in an open mouthed kiss, tapping the corners of her lips with his tongue. The space between them had gotten hot. His hands were trembling again as though with palsy. He wanted to lay her down, spread her out, bury himself into her as he lapped at the reaches of her mouth—

Then he remembered himself and pulled away. It was hard, especially when he caught sight of her flushed faced, red, used lips, and half-lidded gaze.

"I love you, Ema. I want to marry you."

The swollen lips closed to smile. "Best to try that out with a date first, yeah?"

He rubbed the tip of his nose against hers and sighed. If this was a dream, he'd be okay with that. He'd probably even be okay if he was dying to. This was bliss.

"I can't believe…" he breathed. "Don't I…don't I creep you out?"

"It's okay. The guy I like is too old for me anyways."

He flinched back. "Wait, so you really do like—"

"That's you, silly!" She bonked her forehead against his. "You don't think I'm a creep, do you?"

He answered that by stroking his cheek against hers and nuzzling into her neck. Hnnng, no wonder Ukyo couldn't help himself. Her neck and shoulders were especially nice.

"I'm old," he muttered, not really listening to himself, just saying those because he wouldn't feel comfortable without a disclaimer.

"Thirty-four is not old yet."

"I'm super chauvinistic."

"Wanting a stay at home mom isn't chauvinistic, besides, we all kind of figured you'd want that anyways. I wouldn't be able to leave my kids at home with a babysitter anyways."

"I'm not grown up."

"Hardly any man is."

"I'm horny."

She flinched and jerked back, nose scrunched up. "I thought—"

"Which is probably why you should scamper off before you test me any further."

Sheepishly, she got off his lap, making him feel absolutely freezing.

"Sorry," she looked away. "I, uh—"

"Don't be." He couldn't stop smiling anyways. "Just thought I'd throw that out there. Thought you should know."

"No, it's because you have a complex about being honest to those you care about."

Once more, she threw him for a loop. "Did Hikaru tell you that?"

"No. I figured it out."

And with that, she pecked him once more on the forehead, bid him good night, and vanished into the depths of the house outside his door.


	25. Pro Epilogue

Epilogue

The call came in the middle of Dina and Kyoi's twitterpatted gabbles about plans for his 36th birthday the coming week. Since Ema frequently called him at work ever since her third trimester began, he didn't think much of it, though there was always the little twinge of anticipation in his gut that it might be an emergency.

That twinge turned into a full out, spasmodic cramp at the sound of her high, pained voice.

" _I can't get up, it hurts. The baby's coming."_

He turned away from the girls, who had quieted only a modicum on seeing he had a call.

"I'll be right there."

At the look on his face, the girls clammed up.

"Did something happen?" Dani asked.

"Ema's in labor. Have the intern take the rest of my appointments for today."

Thank god they had actually managed to get an intern the past year. It made his life a lot easier, for sure, especially since staying late was even more of a pain since he had a pretty little wife waiting for him at home.

It took all his self control not to drive like a robber from a bank heist all the way, though he did push the speed limit despite the still icy roads of early March. All the while he wondered madly how it had gotten to this point and where the hell was Yusuke. He had been the brother that had sister watching duties, since Ema had developed an intense sense of apprehension of being alone over the past two weeks, which was normal for women nearing their delivery day, but nerve wracking to Masaomi nonetheless as she always woke up and whimpered when he left.

When Yusuke opened the door, pale and terrified, Masaomi nearly lunged at his throat.

"What have you been doing?" he snapped as he pushed past him into their quaint, three bedroom house.

"I had a presentation and an exam," his younger brother's voice sounded as panicked as he felt. "She said she'd be okay—we have to get her to a hospital!"

Masaomi took the stairs three at a time. Somehow, he instinctively knew she was.

And his instincts proved right. He found her curled into a corner of their bedroom, hemmed in by pillows and their thick, fluffy comforter. A high, agonized, keening wail had started up the moment he stepped in.

"Ema," he jumped the space, falling besides her. "I'm here."

She didn't respond, her head ducked down, face flushed and screwed up. He set his hand on her shoulder, and after a few seconds she jerked back with a loud, stomach lurching gasp.

"I-I'm sorry, I can't—it hurts so much, I can't—I didn't mean to let it get this bad, my water just broke and I—"

Another contraction took her, stealing her voice and crunching her in again, squeezing out another tortured wail. He nearly lost it then and there, his nerves skinned and flailing somewhere near the ceiling.

"I'm going to check how dialated you are," he said in a force calm he far but felt.

She said nothing and he reached under the blanket for her legs. The insides of her thighs were moist and slippery and he found her opening easily.

As his fingers went up, spreading out with growing alarm at how wide the space had become, the tips of his fingers hit the hard, soft top of a baby's head.

Oh hell—

"Yusuke!" he barked behind him, even as he gathered his shaking, crying wife in his arms.

"Yeah!" Of course he'd be waiting in the doorway to their bedroom.

"Boil some water, as much as you can."

"Aw hell, you don't mean—"

"NOW!" So much for his forced calm.

Yusuke scampered. Masaomi set her on the bed, where she instantly fell back, clutching the sheets so hard the knuckles and tendons of her fingers shone out white. He gathered the pillows from the floor and set them at the headboard, then pulled her up against them. Blood and water smeared along the sheets after her.

Yanking up a knitted blanket from the floor, he folded it near her rear to catch anymore liquid, even as he yanked her pants and underwear off.

"Good news, sweetling," he told her as he moved. "You aren't going to be pregnant anymore."

"No," she gasped. "I waited too long. I didn't mean to."

"Hush. You've been in an out of the hospital for false labor all month and it embarrassed you, it only makes sense. Just focus on breathing right now."

A contraction had taken her as he spoke, and he wasn't certain she had heard him, as she'd scrunched in as though doing an intense sit up and wasn't breathing.

"Breathe, Ema!"

She gasped and started to pant, whimpers fighting to get past each breath. Her face had reddened with the contraction, then paled quickly as it faded.

She let out a cracking sob. "Oh god, I can't—I can't—"

"Shh, just focus on breathing, you're going to be okay, I'm right here." He opened her trembling legs. "I felt his head, so he should be here any moment."

"Oh god, oh god, oh god—" she broke off with a breathless scream that pushed her back against the pillows.

"Just do what your body is telling you to, Ema. Push, then breathe, push—"

Hell, it was opening. Purpling and opening—this was horrifying. Whoever said birth was beautiful had a seriously sick idea of what qualified as beautiful.

A patch—a little circle of dark, damp hair appeared.

Then vanished back inside.

"I saw his head, Ema, breathe."

She choked instead. He clenched her calves.

"It's okay, Ema, you're doing great—" She cried out and crunched back in, teeth bared. "Push! That's right, you're doing great—I see his head again! Push push!"

The patch of hair got bigger, and this time it didn't vanish when she fell back against the pillows again to pant and shake.

The babe's head played peekaboo like that long enough to get him thinking he should dare the twenty minute trip to the hospital anyways, just in case this was a sign of complications. But then the baby's head crowned completely, round and topped with dark, curly hair. He cupped his hand beneath it, stroking the hair outwards, resisting the temptation to take hold of the tiny head and yank it out.

"He's coming out! His head's half way—push! Push!"

"Oh my god," he heard Yusuke say from the doorway behind him.

Ema gave an almighty scream of effort and pain—the head dropped into his waiting hand, quickly followed by the neck—

And with a rush of fluids and a shriek of agony from Ema, the tiny body slipped out, just like that, into his waiting hands.

Covered in birthing fluids and white birthing cum, blue-purple like a bruise, wrinkled and head coned shape from the force of being pushed through the birth canal, the baby looked straight up at him with dark, wide eyes.

Not a boy as the ultrasounds had said.

The little dark eyes vanished as his firstborn daughter screwed up her wrinkled face and let out a piercing wail, her curled, tiny limbs flailing in distress and her bruised color quickly turning bright red. Miniture, perfectly made fingers curled in and out. Little feet kicked and retracted into the cramped, curled little ball she had been in for so long in her mother's womb.

He heard a body drop hard on the floor behind him, but he couldn't pull his eyes from the little girl in his hands to check on Yusuke.

His little girl.

"Ema," he lifted up the baby to show her. Tears had filled up his eyes so he couldn't quite make out the expression on Ema's face. "It's a girl. We have a daughter."

Ema let out a wan, "Ha. Called it."

Ema had mentioned at the ultrasound her surprise at them finding the baby as a boy, as she had felt so strongly that it would be a girl.

Laughing, crying, he waited for Ema to pull aside her shirt before laying the baby on her bare skin and throwing his doctor's coat over both of them. Then, trembling and breathless, he directed Ema through the afterbirth—pushing out the placenta—and tugged a binder clip from his coat pocket to clamp down the umbilical cord. His little girl's crying had calmed once she heard her mother's heartbeat, and now a cacophony of tiny baby noises, grunts, whines, snuffling, had started up.

"Hello, baby. It's good to see you on the outside," said Ema. "That was traumatic, wasn't it? Yeah, it was for me too. Let's not think about it."

Masaomi couldn't stop himself. Hands and forearms covered in blood, he leaned out from between her legs, right over their daughter, and kissed her hard. Even then he thought he might explode. How could anyone feel this much love and survive?

He wanted to linger there, but his protectiveness rushed back in. They weren't in the clear yet.

"Yusuke, where's that—" he turned to find his redhaired brother out cold on the floor of the doorway. "…water."

With an explosive sigh, he stomped over and kicked his brother awake. Yusuke's eyes nearly bulged out of his head as he looked up at him.

"You're…you're covered in blood…" he croaked.

"And you passed out when a woman giving birth needed you," Masaomi said blandly. "Where's the water?"

"It's on the stove, sorry, I didn't mean—aw hell—"

"Forget it. I need you to call my office and ask for a woman named Dani. Tell her what happened."

But Yusuke had shot up at an especially loud little baby grunt.

"Is…is that…"

Masaomi couldn't help but smile. "Your niece."

He shot to his feet, and for a moment Masaomi was glad he had gotten the bloody blanket and afterbirth out of the way and covered Ema with the comforter. Post birth or not, he didn't need his brothers staring at Ema's privates.

Yusuke zoomed to Ema's side, face cracking wide with joy.

"Don't touch her," Masaomi snapped. "You need to disinfect yourself."

"H-how do I do that? She needs a blanket—it's just your coat—oh my god, she's way prettier than I thought she'd be, not a lumpy bunch of flesh at all! Oh my god, Ema—"

"I said no touching!"

Ema laughed weakly.

Masaomi went towards Yusuke to wake him up from the euphoric sparkles in his eyes, but with one look at Masaomi's bloodied hands and front, Yusuke jumped into action and yanked out his phone.

"I'm calling! I'm calling! Dino, right?"

"Dani."

"Dani, right. Okay."

Everything after that turned into a delirious blur, not unlike Christmas morning. Masaomi cleaned everything up, cut the umbilical cord and gave his daughter her first bath in the cooled, boiled water (she didn't like that at all, she wanted her mom back), let Yusuke hold her while he helped Ema clean up (their mattress was going to be forever stained by this event), then let Dani in with her bag of supplies to give the baby her tests and the preventive measures to protect Ema and her from all the complications of birth.

"She's beautiful!" Dani squealed at seeing the mewling little girl all bundled up in a proper baby blanket now. "Little brother, there's a scale in the back seat of my car, I need you to go get it."

"Yes, ma'am!" Yusuke all but sprinted out of there, having gone hyper since hearing his little niece's noises.

"Um, Masa…"

"Yes, sweetling?"

"I'm really hungry."

So, as Dani administered to their daughter, he mimicked Yusuke and all but sprinted out of there.

Six pounds and fourteen ounces, declared Dani when Masaomi came back with the best sub sandwich he had ever made and a glass of milk. As Ema ate, Dani went on to report the results of the few tests she had. As far as she could tell, this was one healthy, strong little girl. Once she had administered the eyedrops, she delivered the baby back to her mother's chest and begun instructing Ema on how to nurse. Yusuke turned bright red and backed out of the room at that, and Masaomi followed after him.

"You gonna be okay?" Masaomi asked once they were out in the hall.

"Okay? Are you kidding me? This is the best day ever! Ema's amazing—she just pushed out a human being! And she hasn't passed out yet or anything, she was actually talking, and the baby…" he let out a puff of hair. "She's so cute. I mean, mushed up and still has that coned alien head, but she has all those little fingers and toes—why am I so amazed by fingers and toes?"

Masaomi threw back his head and laughed, long and hard.

He was a father now. A real one, to a daughter nonetheless. And to think, he thought this day would never come.

Though his happiness got interrupted when his door proceeded to be visited by brothers, all covered with dangerous outside germs and insisting on seeing Ema and the baby. Apparently, Yusuke had taken a picture of himself and his niece while Masaomi wasn't looking and sent it to them to gloat.

The protective monster inside him arched up with a delighted roar. No one was going to hurt his family. No one.

No one.

 **Author here! If you liked my story, stick around for more! Also, please check out my published works on Amazon under the pen name T.S. Lowe. ^.^ I'd super appreciate it, and if you like this story, you'll super appreciate it too! :D Thanks for reading guys. It was a lot of fun to write and read your reviews. Hope I get to hear more from you!**

 **And Mark's Mom...way to go at being one of my few readers who isn't between the ages of 15 and 30. :P I feel super legit now. A real adult. O.O**


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